


Doomsday (We Had It Coming)

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Series: We Take Our Places in the Dark (and Turn Our Hearts to the Stars) [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin just! makes me write those! they're so fn!, Angst, But he's also a mess, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Character Death, F/M, Going Rogue, Post-Order 66, Sort of? - Freeform, The Siege of Mandalore, if shaak gets a character tag car'das and karrde do too, in which Anakin can't bring himself to kill the younglings, so many characters that get more story later but need to join the rebellion, stover-esque sections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 44,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: All things die, Anakin Skywalker. Even stars… burn out.An encounter with Shaak Ti calls to mind a conversation Anakin Skywalker had on Mortis and he finally realizes that his actions will not bring him what he wants.Sidious is not happy with this.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Series: We Take Our Places in the Dark (and Turn Our Hearts to the Stars) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590130
Comments: 190
Kudos: 473





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> so my uni is now online due to COVID-19, prepare for fanfic ig? I have a chunk of this written and a pretty good idea of where it's going but I make no promises on update schedules. 
> 
> Sorry not sorry for the excessive Stover-style narration. Anakin just makes me do it. Title is from Starset's Trials.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things die, Anakin Skywalker.  
> Even stars... burn out.

This is not the beginning. 

The beginning could have been three years ago, when Geonosis was invaded by those who claimed to save it, a diplomatic incident drawn to such proportions it has not stopped. 

It could have been thirteen years ago, when a curious Jedi was forced to make a landing on a Force-hunch and a prayer, when another “diplomatic incident” spiraled into a war.

It could have been twenty-two years ago, when two Force users, blinded by greed, tipped the scale too far, when several million Force-users had settled into complacent pride.

It could have been four thousand years ago, when another set of Force users founded a new Order, claiming they would be different than those that had dug themselves so far into fear as to feel nothing but apathy for those they were meant to save.

The beginning could have been over twenty-six thousand years ago, when the light once again came into conflict with the dark. 

This is not the beginning. Nor is it truly the end. Those who would argue for peace, for _balance,_ are never listened to. Those who serve the dark continue to prioritize their greed for power, while those who serve the light cling to their foolish pride.

The Jedi call it foolish. The Sith call it weakness. The dead-star dragon whispers to them both all the same.

This is not the story of one listened to, but it is the story of one who listened.

This is not the beginning, but it is the death of it.

_All things die, Anakin Skywalker. Even stars… burn out._


	2. Even Stars Burn Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation: Knighfall goes a little differently.

The hooded figure raised the gate effortlessly. The Jedi at his feet stared up at him, dead-eyed. He paid them no mind. They had chosen to get in his way, and thus they had chosen their fate. Beyond him yawned the wide-open expanse of the Jedi Temple, the sanctum of the traitors. Those who had held him down and prevented him from reaching the potential they knew he had sat inside. The damnable _Jedi Council._ Any who followed their deluded ways would suffer, just as he had.

“Appo.”

The clone trooper stood at attention behind him. “Yes, Lord Vader?”

“Ransack this filth. Leave no reminders of the pathetic Jedi Order.”

Appo nodded once before gesturing for the 501st to follow him. The hooded figure strode into the Temple in front of his troops, lightsaber in hand. 

* * *

This is how it feels to be Darth Vader, for now.

You have _crushed_ the dead-star dragon under your heel, and now the supernova furnace you use for a heart drives you forward. It burns clean the Jedi Temple, just as it burnt their spiderweb of deceptions from your mind. Your lightsaber is a purifying flame in the center of the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The Knights that are on-world, whether recovering or not-quite-yet shipped out for the Outer Rim, stand no chance against you.

You do not even need to drop your shields.

The Padawans that attack you fall to swift strikes. You cannot resist reaching out and _choking_ one, the fire in your veins reaching out and grabbing her, closing her throat and snapping her neck. You feel the death, feel the dark side coursing through you, unlocking the power you knew had always been there. And then the famed battlemaster is there, standing in front of you with his lightsaber. 

The only reason you drop your shields is that you want to have a little fun with this one. _You_ are the one in control the entire time, from the moment you drop your shields and the Jedi’s eyes widen, his fear palpable through the Force as the full intensity of your considerable power is thrown against him. 

He doesn’t live long.

All those in the Room of a Thousand Fountains die as you grin, the fire burning through your veins. It is intoxicating, _thrilling,_ it is the power they so long _denied_ you. You, their _“Chosen One,”_ their _savior of the light,_ were denied this because they _feared_ you. They feared you realizing that the natural state of the universe was _dark._

The dark always wins, and you are happy to be its messiah. 

* * *

Vader turned from the fallen Jedi before him as Appo approached from behind. Her body was trapped against the wall by one of the busts of the Lost Twenty, a fittingly ironic end. “Milord, all the ships in the hangar bay have been destroyed and the entrances to the Temple locked down. Waterfall Company has successfully locked the transmitter to the “come home” signal.”

“Good. Sweep through the Temple; finish taking out the Jedi traitors. I’ll take the Council Chambers myself.”

Appo saluted. “Yes, Sir.”

* * *

His steps echoed through the Temple. Each arched doorway Vader passed showed him more of the carnage his troops had wrought. Blood of all colors seeped through the carpets, staining the tiles. Blaster burns covered bodies and walls. The bodies of Jedi, Padawan, Knight, Youngling, and Master alike, were scattered with the bodies of the few troopers they had cut down. 

Vader paid them no mind, intent on his final destination: the place where he would finally cut down the last of those who had denied him the power to save Padmé, to save _everyone._ The Council chambers were a nexus in the Force, awash in the presence of generations of the most powerful Jedi that had ever lived. If he was to find the last of those that had wronged him, to finally take the revenge he was entitled to, it would be there. And there, in one of the meditation chambers just off of the main Council chamber… 

The door opened with a wave of his hand. Shaak Ti knelt in the chamber, head bowed in meditation. An easy target.

He knew her better than that. She was a warrior, yes, a soldier, a cunning strategist, but she was also a nurturer. A natural with the Younglings, with the clone cadets that knew so little of the world.

“What are you protecting,” he growled, lightsaber a hairsbreadth from her nose.

Her head slowly raised, dark eyes looking him in the eye. “Why are you doing this, Skywalker?”

Vader snarled. “That is _not_ my name.”

“Skywalker,” she insisted, _“who_ are you doing this for?”

“I have no obligation to answer you. I no longer answer to your weak, corrupt, _stupid_ and _fearful,_ contemptible _Jedi Council._ If you value your life, you will _talk.”_

“If you are doing this for yourself, what do you hope to accomplish? Revenge? What then? What will you do when you are left hollow and cold? Will this truly bring you peace?”

“Peace is a _lie,”_ he snapped, and Vader knew it to be true. There had never been a time in his life where he had truly been at peace. 

Ti gazed up at him for a moment, an infuriating sadness in her eyes. She closed her eyes and lowered her head again. “I had always hoped you wouldn’t turn out like them, that Obi-Wan’s efforts would sway you from the path the others have always walked. I see now that was a fool’s hope.”

Vader’s guillotine strike was blocked just above her head. Ti rolled under his flurry of blows, blue light clashing against blue. “You have always been a fool!”

“Perhaps I have been,” she gasped as she ducked under one strike and blocked another, barely preventing it from hitting her montrails. “Perhaps we all were. Perhaps everyone who has ever read the prophecy has been a _fool.”_

Vader came around with a one-two combination that knocked the Torgrutan Jedi out into the hall. “You were fools the moment you denied me the power that is rightfully _mine.”_

“We always believed that we were the special ones, the ones who found the _true_ Chosen One, the one who would finally destroy our ancient enemies. We led ourselves on a wild bantha chase while the answer was sitting right in front of us.”

“And what would that answer be?” Vader snarled.

Ti barely dodged the stab for her heart. “That we had created our own destruction. We had blinded ourselves to the nature of the Force. It had indeed created a way to bring Balance and in our own prideful righteous conviction that we, _we_ were the most important, that _we_ would be the saviors, we had become the target ourselves.”

Vader swung at her again, sloppy with anger but still managing to push her against the wall. Her Ataru style was nothing against his Djem So driven with the power of the dark side behind it. Every strike pushed her defenses lower, pushed her powers further than she could manage until Vader’s lightsaber sliced through one of her montrails. She cried out, too paralyzed with pain to stop the lightsaber going through her chest. 

Shaak Ti reached out and grabbed his robe as she collapsed to the ground, hanging onto him with the last of her strength. “I’m sorry, Anakin. I pray you continue to follow the others, that you find the balance you so desperately need. Just remember--remember who… you are… doing this for…”

Vader depressed the button on his lightsaber and watched, cold and emotionless, as her body slumped to the floor.

* * *

This is what it feels like to be Darth Vader, for now.

You leave the dead Jedi Master’s body behind you, not watching as it and her presence fade into the Force. Ahead lies your destination, and it is a simple flick of your mind to open the doors, to open the lock buried so deep it can only be opened with the Force. The fire is still licking through your veins, searching for more, _more,_ for the next kill that will prove to yourself that the dead-star dragon was wrong, that being the best will be good enough because there _are_ no other options.

Your lightsaber is in your hand, waiting, crystal bleeding power into the Force, the color already tinting towards the synthetic red of your Master’s. You know there is one more Council member, one more Jedi Master who denied you everything, and the one place you can confirm where he is is the beacons stored in this room. 

As you stalk into the room, a small voice greets you. “Master Skywalker?”

A Youngling stares at you from behind a chair, their eyes wide and scared. More pop out from behind the other chairs, looking at you like you’re their savior. “There are too many of them. What are we going to do?”

You intend to answer as you did with every Padawan who ran across you alone, with every Knight who willfully ignored the dark side surrounding you with a thunderstorm.

But you find you can’t raise your hand.

_When you find yourself with your lightsaber to their throat, when you’ve destroyed everything they held dear in the name of protecting them, when you find yourself broken and lost and so, so alone, you need to remember who you are doing it for._

Shaak Ti’s final words make it through the fiery haze in your brain, connecting with the words spoken by another Sith in what might as well have been a dream. You are doing this for your unborn child, to free them from the suffering the Jedi Order inflicted upon you and countless others. You are doing this for Padmé so that she will live to see that child grow up into someone better than you could ever be. 

Was this child not a victim too?

That thought shatters the shield of fire you had unconsciously set up. 

You are the heart of the Force, and you can finally hear the horrifying scream of terror that the Force has become. You can feel every death you have inflicted in the past few hours, every terrified Force signature as your troopers open fire and your lightsaber directs the charge. You can feel as your orders are carried out by other legions, as Jedi fall by the thousands all across the galaxy. 

The cold, dead-star dragon is whispering in your ear again, frosting over the furnace of your heart: _What would she think of you, right now? Monster. Murderer. You would kill her if she saw you._

_All things die, Anakin Skywalker. And this time, it would be your fault._


	3. The Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka and her half of the 501st prepare Maul for transport to Coruscant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I accidentally added another subplot. Someone needed to go to Mustafar and Anakin certainly wasn't doing it. Oops. I have to rearrange the Obi-Wan part but I think because of the anachronistic order I wrote the next few scenes in I actually have most of the next chapter written already.

“Even without his lightsaber, Maul is still a formidable opponent. The Force-cuffs and ray shield are doing their job for now, but I’d still prefer to get him back to Coruscant as soon as possible.”

Admiral Yularen nodded over the comm. “I understand, General Tano, but transmissions to Coruscant are still interdicted in this sector. We cannot count on Jedi backup.”

Ahsoka sighed, pursing her lips. Some small part of her wanted to run her hand through her hair, like she’d seen Anakin do so many times when he was frustrated. The problem there was she didn’t _have_ any hair, and running a hand over her montrails wouldn’t have quite the same effect. She settled for tapping her foot. “I wasn’t counting on it, but I was hoping for it. Generals Kenobi and Skywalker are probably being kept on Coruscant to provide the Chancellor further security. Are you sure we can’t contact the Council at all?”

“No, Sir.”

The door opened next to Ahsoka and she glanced over to see Rex walking in. He made a signal that meant _can I talk to you._ She nodded and turned back to the comm. “Alright. Prepare to transfer him up to the _Resolute_ on one of the shuttles. I’ll keep guard on the way up and as much as possible while we’re en-route. Once we’re out of the interdicted zone, we’ll call the Council and inform them of our success.” 

“Acknowledged.”

The other hologram on the terminal saluted to her. “Prepping prisoner for transport now, General.”

“Good, Hammer. General Tano out.”

Both holograms flickered off and Ahsoka took a moment to stretch her arms. She certainly hadn’t missed the _paperwork_ part of command. “Alright, Rexter, whatcha got for me?”

“Command--General, there’s something I need to discuss with you. Privately.”

She blinked at him for a moment, probing his Force signature. He was earnest, and worried and… guilty? “Lead on,” she gestured. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“No need to be so formal,” she told him as she fell in step beside him and exited the comms room. “I’m only your General until we get back to Coruscant. Plus, I bet you still have more experience than me, eh?”

He gave her a half-smile as they entered the main operations centre of Avalanche Regiment’s temporary abode on their way to the outside world. “Well, I suppose that’s true. Ahsoka. There is one experience that I need to tell you about before hell breaks loose, and I’m getting the feeling that it’s coming sooner than we want.”

Ahsoka caught a flash of Rex’s memory, something so strong he was projecting it into the Force. A rayshield, him and Fives and Skyguy-- 

\-- _they’re going to kill him HER they can’t Padmé Padmé PADMÉ--_

“Ahsoka! Ahsoka, can you hear me?”

_\-- can’t let her can’t let them die have to save--_

She could just barely feel hands on her shoulders, her own hands pressed against her montrails in a desperate, futile attempt to stop the _scream_ ripping through her of horror and _terror--_

\--And then it was gone, like it was snapped off, silenced with the ferocity of a lightsaber through the throat. _“No… no no no no--”_

“Ahsoka?”

She gasped in a breath and opened her eyes enough to find she had fallen to her knees and Rex was kneeling next to her, hands on her shoulders. The world blurred through tears as she looked up at him. “Anakin.”

Rex’s eyes widened, and he placed his helmet back on to use his comm, even though they were still in the main ops centre. “Jesse, Kix, I need you to grab a ship and some supplies. Hell’s about to send its debt collectors.”

“Roger that, Sir. We’re on our way.”

“Alright, we need to get you out of here.”

“What--Rex?” she managed, wiping at her eyes. She felt like a _limb_ had been cut off, the phantom pain that wasn’t hers but she remembered from unfiltered memories over the bond, the bond that was _gone ripped apart he’d been terrified TERRIFIED and furious--_

“Ahsoka.”

The edge in Rex’s voice was accompanied by her danger sense rocketing up her spine. She forced herself to take a deep breath, to work through the pain that was almost overwhelming, and pushed herself back to her feet. “We gotta--Anakin--we gotta find Padmé. Palan,” she said, spinning towards her logistics officer, “find everything you can on Senator Amidala’s--”

Ahsoka found herself with several blasters pointed at her face. They were each held in the hands of one of 501st, trained with the deadly accuracy they were known for. Her danger sense was screaming at her to _move,_ but she couldn’t. She couldn’t believe that the 501st, the men she had grown up alongside, had served with for years, would shoot her. They _couldn’t._

“Diamond?” For a long moment, stretching out into what felt like hours to her Force-enhanced senses, the captain of Cascade Battalion stared down his blaster at her. 

She barely got her lightsaber in the way of the first salvo. Horrified, she batted the shots into the ceiling or the floor, trying desperately to figure out why they would be shooting her. More parasites? Maul?

“Diamond, stand _down!”_ None of the troopers in front of her responded to her order. “Rex!”

“Not gonna work!” he shouted over the rage of blasters. “They’re following orders from higher up the chain. I’m getting you out of here.”

She deflected another bolt into a blaster, knocking it out of the trooper’s hands, before Rex’s words registered. “What do you _mean,_ higher up the chain?” Obi-Wan was still the High General of the Third Army, and Anakin-- _kriff,_ what had happened? Had the 501st fired on him as well? Obi-Wan would never order the 501st on his own Padawan and grand-Padawan. Who was higher up than him? 

The Chancellor?

“I’ll tell you when we’re _out,”_ Rex growled as he grabbed her arm. They ducked into the closest corridor, Ahsoka batting shots back into blasters and the ceiling until the door closed in front of her. The corridor was blessedly empty. “Come on,” Rex said, starting down it with one of his DC-17s in hand.

“What in the _nine Corellian hells_ is going _on?”_ Ahsoka hissed, following him. Her lightsabers were deactivated, but she didn’t dare put them back on her belt. Her danger sense was screaming at her, and with the pain still streaming from where her bond with Anakin had been…

“Can I explain when we’re off Mandalore?”

She glowered at him, but the feeling of a patrol of troopers about to turn into the corridor had her pulling him into a closet. “Fine. I have one question you have to answer right now, though.”

“What?”

She waited until the patrol passed the closet. “Why aren’t _you_ shooting at me?”

Rex sighed. “Because I listened to Fives.”

* * *

They made their way as quietly as they could to the hangar Avalanche Company had set up just outside the city of Sundari, stopping only so that Ahsoka could grab the bag she’d never unpacked from her quarters. The announcement that went over the intercom ordering everyone on base to “kill the traitor Tano on sight and capture CT-7567 at all costs” stabbed another spike through her heart. 

They didn’t even use his _name._

“Jesse, Kix, where are you?”

“The T-6 in the middle of the hangar.”

Rex peeked out from behind his and Ahsoka’s cover of fuel canisters. The battered semicircle of the T-6 was indeed almost exactly in the middle of the hangar, although there was thankfully nothing between it and the hangar opening. “Little obvious a choice there, Jesse. You couldn’t have gotten Maul’s ship or something?” Said ship, which looked a little like a cross between a Sienar _Star-_ class courier and a Kuat _Actis-_ class interceptor, was sitting just to the side of the T-6.

“Yeah, well, what do you expect from the two of us? None of _us_ are pilots and that thing’s scary. I don’t even know how to get into it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m bringing one of the best.”

There was a pause over the private comm they were using, before Jesse’s voice came back, quieter. “How is she?”

Rex glanced at the General, who was staring off into space again, one hand on her montrails like a human would try to block their ears. “She’s… holding up. Get ready for one hell of an entrance.”

“You could try just walking.”

“You can’t hide Togruta montrals in a helmet. Besides, where’s the fun in that?”

Rex could _hear_ the eye-roll. “Why can’t you just leave the crazy to the General?”

 _“Someone’s_ gotta pull off the signature 501st crazy without Skywalker around. See you in a minute. Rex out.”

He clicked his comm off and turned back to Ahsoka next to him. “So. Any ideas?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I thought _you_ were the one with the “Skywalker crazy” plan.”

“Yes, well, I think I’m General Kenobi in this situation, which leaves you to be General Skywalker.”

Ahsoka did a very bad job of hiding a laugh, but quickly sobered up. Where there was Anakin, there was Obi-Wan. If something had happened to one half of the holonet’s legendary strike team, it had almost certainly happened to the other. So much of the Republic’s propaganda machine, both the official holonet one and the unofficial GAR-wide one, ran off of Kenobi-And-Skywalker that the loss of one or both of them almost certainly spelled the end of the war. 

And not in favor of the Republic. 

She was startled out of her musings by Rex tapping her leg. “Mind giving me a lightsaber for a moment?”

Ahsoka pulled her shoto off her belt, but paused. “Rex, have you even turned one of these things on before?”

“I think you know better than me how many times General Skywalker’s dropped his,” Rex said with what sounded like a raised eyebrow, but she couldn’t tell through the helmet, “I’ve used them before. Not well, but I know which end not to point at me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, she handed it to him. “Be careful.”

“I will. Stay put, take these,” he slid his trusty DC-17s out of their holsters and gave them to her, “and wait for my signal.”

“And what’s the signal?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. _Skywalker crazy_ plan. Why did I bother asking.”

With a salute Rex stood and slipped away from the barrels, towards the entrance to the hangar. He got halfway there before one of the troopers on duty spotted him. “Halt!”

“Oh thank the Force you found me,” he babbled at the two troopers running towards him, “she took me hostage, I had no choice, last I saw she was heading towards the south exit--”

“Enough. Hands in the air, Sir,” one of them said. He could just hear the other over the comm reporting where Ahsoka supposedly was. “Put down the lightsaber.”

Rex glanced at his hand that held the lightsaber. “I dunno, this thing might be damaged, I think someone with more technical expertise than me should make sure it doesn’t blow up or something. I saw General Kenobi’s do that once; it wasn’t pretty.” He just needed the trooper a bit closer…

And that was when the door to the south side of the hangar flew off its hinges, knocking him to the ground and flattening the two troopers in front of him. Rex scrambled out of the range of the door, wondering what the _hell_ Ahsoka was _doing._ He hadn’t given any sort of signal, and she knew him well enough to know that, so why--

The figure that ran past him was definitely not Ahsoka. Red and black, and a lightsaber making itself known and just as Rex was certain the blade was going to stab through his helmet the lightsaber in his hand activated, a brilliant blue flashing in the way of red.

Darth Maul didn’t even bother to sneer at him.

Rex dropped to the ground, throwing the lightsaber in the general direction of Ahsoka as he did. Thankfully, Maul ignored him, or maybe just didn’t consider him enough of a threat to bother, instead beelining for the customized ship in the middle of the hangar. 

His blasters clattered to the ground in front of him, the noise barely heard over the sudden din of alarms blaring through the base. “Some signal!” Ahsoka yelled as she ran past, both lightsabers in defensive positions.

He scooped up the blasters and made to follow. “In my defense, that wasn’t part of the plan!”

“That’s _always_ part of a _Skywalker crazy_ plan!”

Every trooper in the hangar had his blaster out, aiming for the former Sith Lord careening through the hangar. Each shot was deflected back with deadly accuracy. Rex grimaced as he leapt over a fallen brother, a shot through the under armour on his neck. This part never got any easier. Ahead of him, Ahsoka was deflecting what little fire was headed towards her towards Maul, still hot on his heels.

...That meant she wasn’t headed for their ship. “Ahsoka! Head for the ship!”

She growled a low Togruta hunting noise as the fire on her increased and she was forced to slow down enough that Rex was capable of catching up to her. “I’m not letting Maul get away, not again.”

“General, _think._ The entire 501st is after us, our best chance to get out is using the distraction he’s inadvertently given us.”

She ignored him, but he could see her eyes waver.

“Ahsoka. What would Anakin want you to do?”

He was half afraid she’d growl something along the lines of “follow Maul,” which was certainly what the General would have done himself, but not what he would have told her to do. To Rex’s relief, she sighed and changed course slightly. 

They made it the final few meters to the T-6 and dashed up the ramp. “Jesse, Kix, pull her up!”

“I really don’t know how, I hope you brought the General!”

“Move, Jesse.”

Jesse stood and shifted back a seat to let Ahsoka take the pilot’s seat. “Commander, General.”

Rex pulled his helmet off and nodded to Jesse and Kix in the co-pilot’s seat. “I think we’re a little outside the chain of command now.”

“Discussion later, guns now,” Ahsoka interrupted, “see if you can take down Maul’s ship.”

“In the middle of the hangar?” Jesse gaped at her.

“The more we disable here, the less that will chase after us, and I’d _prefer_ if Maul doesn’t get off-planet again.” Her explanation was punctuated by the whirr of the ship’s repulsorlifts finishing their warm-up sequence and raising the ship just slightly into the air. Beside them, Maul’s ship was doing the same.

“This thing is so old I’m not even sure the guns are working,” Kix grumbled. “Jesse, Rex, think you can work any magic?”

Rex was already tapping at the tibanna lines. “I’m not even sure General Skywalker could handle this on the fly.”

“General, the atties outside are warming up. If we’re leaving intact we’re leaving now.”

Ahsoka glanced over at Maul’s ship. _There is no passion, there is serenity._ The old fragment of the Jedi Code flitted through her mind, along with bits and pieces of wisdom she’d picked up from people like Trace. Trying to take down Maul right now would rid the galaxy of a monster, yes, but getting out of here with her life could prevent whatever was happening to the 501st from happening somewhere else. Whatever had happened to Anakin could be avoided for others. 

She eased the T-6 forward, testing the sublights. They wavered slightly, but settled into drive. Clone troopers shouted below the ship, heading for the ARC-170s in the back of the hangar. She could feel a flight of them over the hangar, lying in wait.

Well, perhaps one problem could be solved in tandem with the other. Ahsoka eased the T-6 closer to Maul’s ship. The other ship’s sublights burst into motion, but Ahsoka was quick enough that she slipped the T-6 under the thing’s wing and they flew out into the open together. Fire from the AT-TEs and ARC-170s scattered off the other ship’s deflectors, but not a single bolt hit their T-6. Allowing herself a small grin, Ahsoka pushed the throttle to full-blast at the same time Maul pushed his, and they shot into space in tandem. 

“Kix, get me a hyperspace course to anywhere but here.”

“Want me to follow Maul? He probably knows somewhere we can lay low for a while.”

“Sure,” she shrugged, a little confused on why they would need to lay low, but first priority was getting out of Mandalore’s system. 

As the full complement of Shadow and Gold squadrons rose out of Mandalore’s atmosphere, the streaking starlines of hyperspace enveloped them. Ahsoka leaned back in her chair, releasing tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Alright, Rex, I think you owe me an explanation.”


	4. Climbing Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself alone at literal rock bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to have this up on Friday but we had a GIANT windstorm and it caused Power Problems so I couldn't even do homework much less finish this chapter. For some reason, despite knowing exactly what I wanted out of this, Obi-Wan was really hard to write here. I guess I just don't write him as much as the other two and his role isn't as action-y as the others.

Obi-Wan hauled himself up onto the nearest rock and sat there a moment to catch his breath. Studiously ignoring the spray of blood painting the sinkhole around him and the slowly cooling carcass in the water, he wiped the water out of his eyes. Even with the Force flowing through him in higher amounts than he’d used since his first battle with Darth Maul, everything _hurt._

He hadn’t even felt the blast coming.

Obi-Wan poked at the bruise forming on his side underneath charred and soaked robes. It hurt, but nothing like what it had felt like in the moment. In the moment it had felt like Grievous had stabbed the electrostaff straight through him, had severed a _limb_ and he knew what that felt like because Anakin hadn’t been able to shield it and _Force._ Now, it just felt like a bruise, tender like he’d been hit with a staff and nothing more. A bruised rib. He’d have to ask Anakin later if it always felt like this afterwards, or if this was the work of the Force allowing him to get out of here. Force knew his Padawan had been hit with electricity and electrostaffs enough times over the course of this war to know. He was practically a lighting rod.

To ask Anakin _anything,_ however, he had to get out of this sinkhole first. On shaky legs, Obi-Wan hauled himself to his feet. He looked over the water, at the lifeless husk that was the remains of his dragonmount. “I’m sorry, my friend, and thank you. May the Force be with you.” With that, he turned to the winding pattern of erosion on the side of the sinkhole.

The inexplicable feeling that he would never get to ask Anakin that question followed him up. 

* * *

Nightfall found Obi-Wan sneaking through the tunnels that connected the entirety of the sinkhole city. At least he’d stopped dripping water somewhere along the way; one less way Cody and the rest of the 212th could track him. 

What had  _ happened? _ He couldn’t fathom why his own battalion would blast him off the wall. There had been no warning, no tingle of danger rocketing up his spine. His danger sense wasn’t the best he knew of, he’d have to give that honor to Mace, but it wasn’t the worst either. He should have  _ felt _ it. Had it happened to others? If the 212th was firing on him, what about the rest of the GAR? 

What about the 501st? 

Obi-Wan had to pause and lean against the wall for a moment. Anakin and Ahsoka were two of the most resourceful Jedi he had ever met, and they commanded the loyalty of their troops like no others. The 501st was even more loyal than the 212th. Surely they wouldn’t have-- they couldn’t have. They  _ couldn’t _ have. Split across Coruscant and Mandalore, they didn’t have the firepower or numbers to. The 501st couldn’t have.

That didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t feel Anakin. 

Their bond hadn’t been the same since the fiasco that caused Ahsoka to leave. Anakin’s growing insomnia and increasing self-destructive tendencies had ripped at his side of the bond, leaving just a few threads hanging between them. Maybe he was fine, and just too far away for Obi-Wan to feel him from most of the way across the galaxy. Anakin was fine, and he was rushing back to Mandalore to help Ahsoka, completely disregarding the Council’s orders as usual. That had to be what was happening. It  _ had _ to.

He didn’t know if he could live with any other scenario. 

A trickle of danger down his spine was the only warning he got before a trooper patrol turned the corner. With nowhere to hide, no side tunnels within a five second sprint, Obi-Wan did the only thing he could think of as they raised their blasters at him.

“I’m not the one you’re looking for,” he blurted with a wave of his hand.

The troopers paused for a moment, but lowered their blasters. “You’re not the one we’re looking for.”

Obi-Wan hesitated. A large part of him felt guilty about using a (rather powerful) mind trick on his own troops, but he’d really prefer to not get shot. He could tell them to move along and forget they’d ever seen him, or he could use this as an opportunity to figure out what the hell was going on. Whatever had happened here, he needed intel to give the Council when he got back to Coruscant. Or…

“You don’t want to kill any Jedi.”

“We don’t want to, but good soldiers follow orders, Sir.”

He blinked, frowning slightly. Where had he heard that phrase before? “Orders from who?”

“Order 66 can only be activated by the Supreme Commander’s office.”

Several things clicked into place. The mechno-chair and everything that came from it, Dooku’s words on Geonosis, a lifetime’s worth of odd feelings, and too many instances of too-perfect timing.

_ Oh Sithspit. _

He had let the Council send Anakin directly into the heart of the storm. No wonder he couldn’t feel his former Padawan, he was likely buried beneath the weight of a  _ Sith Lord. _ A Sith Lord he’d treated as a  _ friend _ since he was  _ ten. _

Had they  _ known? _ Had they sent the Chosen One to spy on the Sith with the intention of having him fulfill the prophecy that they themselves admitted they had likely misinterpreted?  _ What had they thrown Anakin into? _ He needed to get back to Coruscant  _ right now, _ to drag Anakin off-planet, maybe take Padmé with them, go back to Mandalore and come up with a plan--

No. He needed to take a breath.  _ In and out, Kenobi. _ First priority was getting out of here, second was finding Anakin. If whatever this “Order 66” was had happened to all of the GAR, then Anakin would likely no longer be in the Temple. The problem was whether he was going to be in Padmé’s apartment, or streaking stars towards Mandalore and his Padawan. Was Coruscant even safe for Jedi right now? With both the 501st and the Coruscant Guard, two of the GAR’s most elite units, currently stationed there, it was entirely possible it wasn’t.

“Where are you being ordered to after you find m--who you’re looking for?”

“We will reinforce Lord Vader after finishing mop-up here.”

_ “Vader? _ Not Sidious?”

“Yessir.”

“Did… Lord Vader give the order?”

“No, Sir, Lord Sidious did.”

_ How quickly one finds a new apprentice. _ “You never saw me here, and we never had this conversation,” Obi-Wan told them with another wave of his hand, and slipped past them.

Several twisting corridors and the will of the Force later, he found himself standing next to the burnt-out remains of General Grievous and, more importantly, a small Techno Union starfighter. 


	5. Ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Senator for Alderaan watches the fallout of Operation: Knightfall.

The Jedi Temple was burning.

Bail Organa could see the smoke from his apartment. Just as the fire crews had finally managed to douse the last of the fires from the battle above, the Temple had smouldered its final warning. Coruscant’s controlled sky was coated in grey. If Bail had been prone to such musings, he would have called it the final descent of the dark.

“Senator Organa,” his security chief’s holo said from his desk, “There is a young man and several others at the door. He says they’re Jedi.”

“Let them in, Antillies, and don’t tell anyone they’re here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Bail turned away from the smoke that rolled ever closer. He swiped datapads off his desk, the draft of the Petition of 2000 hidden under a decoration. One couldn't be too careful these days. 

“Senator Organa?”

When Antillies had said young, Bail hadn’t expected _this._ The “young man” in front of him was a Jedi _Youngling,_ barely on the cusp of Padawanhood. Behind him stood others of varying ages, all younger than him. He could see lightsabers held in hands barely large enough to wrap around their hilts, children holding weapons of war taller than themselves. “What happened?” he asked. What had happened that the Temple was on fire, that _children_ had shown up at his door, crying into their sleeves?

“The clones,” their apparent leader said, “They--they marched into the creche. They started shooting. Master Skywalker found us when we hid and told us to come here through the vents. He said--he said you’d help. We split up so we could get here easier.”

Bail stared at the Jedi for a long moment. If Skywalker, who Obi-Wan had once touted to him as the most powerful Jedi of the Order and who Padmé regularly had to thank for her life due to his ability to pull off the impossible, had told these children to turn tail and run to _him,_ things had to be dire.

The text of a report he had read what felt like years ago, but couldn’t have been more than a few months ran through his mind: _In the event of Jedi officers acting against the interests of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander (Chancellor), GAR commanders will remove those officers by lethal force, and command of the GAR will revert to the Supreme Commander (Chancellor) until a new command structure is established._ Padmé had stormed into his office with it in her hand, a fire in her eyes that was angrier than he had ever seen it. _“Look at this, Bail!”_ she’d thundered, “The Jedi never wanted this war, they were dragged into it because the Chancellor _himself_ requested their support. What purpose could this possibly have? Why is it locked only to the Chancellor? What purpose could he have to _specifically order lethal force?”_

Order 66 had been executed.

It was the only explanation. Why else would the clone troopers, so loyal to their _vod Jetiise,_ turn on them? Why else would the Temple be on fire? Why else would there be Jedi dying in their sacred home?

“How many of you are there? Do you have any idea when other groups will get here?”

The not-quite-Padawan shook his head. “Not many of us. Master Skywalker suggested other Senators too. I know Woz was going to take some people to Senator Tills because they’re all aquatic.”

“What other Senators?”

“Mothma, Chuchi, and Bel Iblis.”

All five of them, including himself, had been there at the initial meeting that spawned the Petition of 2000. But there was one curious omission, given that Skywalker seemed to know exactly who had been at that meeting…

He sighed. With a dozen Jedi children suddenly in his charge, he couldn’t afford to dwell on what one Jedi told them to do. The Chancellor had stepped over the line in ordering the attack on the Temple; having these children in his apartment was a danger to them all. 

“Antillies,” Bail said into his comm, “Ready the _Tantive IV._ Do you think we could find these children some clothes that don’t look like Jedi garments? And send someone down to the docks, there should be a Jedi beacon we can grab there.”

Breha was going to _kill_ him. 

* * *

“Captain, I must insist you let us pass.”

Typho resisted the urge to sigh. “Commander, the Senator was very insistent that she not be disturbed for the rest of the day.”

“I have orders from the Supreme Commander himself. My squad _must_ escort her to the Senate building immediately.”

Typho stared at the expressionless helmet in front of him. The squad of ARC troopers had stormed into 500 Republica with an array of weapons Typho wasn’t sure were even legal. He didn’t miss how at least one blaster was pointed at him. Whatever was happening, Padmé had clearly gotten in over her head. Was it the Petition of 2000? Or did it have something to do with the fact that he could see the Jedi Temple burning in the window?

“All due respect, Commander, in light of the recent attack on the Jedi Temple and as head of Senator Amidala’s guard, I must insist that she stay in her rooms. Surely there are no pressing matters that cannot be communicated over secure commlink.” He snuck a glance at where Sabé was standing near the door; the handmaiden was frowning at the troopers, her hand hovering above where Typho knew she had a blaster concealed.

The clone Commander glanced back at one of his subordinates, nodded, then looked back at Typho. He raised the blaster in his hands. “I have been authorized to use lethal force if necessary. Step away, Captain.”

He just managed to duck under the desk at the same time as all three handmaidens in the room whipped out their blasters. Two clone troopers fell to the ground with holes in their helmets. Typho grabbed his blaster from his hip in time to shoot the trooper that made his way around to get to him. 

“Get the Senator!” a masculine voice yelled. Typho poked his head over the desk in time to put sight to the sound of the turbolift doors opening. His shot hit one of the troopers attempting to step onto the lift in the neck, knocking him dead onto the ground, but four troopers still made it in. He growled and started to move towards it, but was forced to duck under the desk again as a shot narrowly missed his head. Padmé was _heavily_ pregnant, there was no way she was going to be able to take on five troopers literally bred for war. Of all the times for them to capitulate to her wish to be left entirely alone… 

“Sabé, Moteé, Dormé, can you get to the lift?”

“Moteé’s down,” Sabé’s voice came over his comm, “Dormé’s helping her and I’m pinned down. No chance here.”

Typho closed his eyes for a moment, praying to the gods that somehow Padmé would get out of this alright--

\--and the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber cut through the blasterfire.


	6. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Senator for Naboo watches the Jedi Temple burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three things:  
> holy SHIT I just watched the Clone Wars episode. I'm dead, dying, RIP NIghthawk cause of death: Clone Wars. I may have gone back to The Rogue and switched Ahsoka's lightsabers back to blue bc of one line of Anakin's, as now I Understand why they're that color.  
> second: I learned while writing this that apparently it's the _Resolute_ that was destroyed over Sullust??? I'm calling bullshit on that, it's safe and sound and still Anakin's flagship during RotS, even if he sends it to Mandalore with Ahsoka.  
> three: the bit about the "slave who makes free" is a reference to [fialleril's](https://fialleril.tumblr.com/) Tatooine Slave Culture ideas. I'll probably be making a few more references to those because they're so COOL and fialleril's said that as long as they're given proper credit people can use them. I've also, of course, thrown my own interpretations into the mix, but I don't think we'll be seeing those until I either a) get around to writing that Zygerria thing or b)write what's going on with the Skywalkers post this fic. Please go check out their blog :D
> 
> Oh also (TW WARNING) Anakin keeps thinking about throwing himself and a certain sith lord out a window in his next few chapters. Doesn't happen, given everything, but he's pretty convinced that's what he should have done.

The Jedi Temple was burning.

Padmé Amidala stared out her window at the roiling clouds of black smoke pouring from the ancient ziggurat. She was not Force-sensitive, but sometimes she swore she could feel what the child within her felt. They had certainly inherited their father’s genes, for at the moment all she could feel were the screams. 

This, then, was the final doom of the dark. It had crept forward slowly, taking bit by bit until everything she held dear was swallowed whole. The Senate was so corrupted by greed and deluded by fear they had given up democracy in all but name; the Republic she loved so much was destroyed. And now, as the HoloNews behind her screeched about the Jedi traitors, about rumors of an attempt on the Supreme Chancellor’s life, the Temple burned. The Temple where her husband had spent so much of his life, where he had lived and loved and fought, was nothing but an empty shell. Its halls full of the protectors of light and justice were forever scarred by the flame that ran through it like blood through veins. 

She cried for him as she watched what would surely be his final resting place burn. 

“Senator--”

“Move,  _ droid.” _

Padmé turned around in time to see C-3PO crash to the ground in a golden heap. The ARC trooper that had pushed him gazed at her through his helmet, blaster trained steadily on her heart. Behind him, three more ARC troopers stood, rifles raised to their shoulders but not directly trained on her. “What is this about?”

She knew, even before the trooper spoke, with the cold certainty that came with hanging around Jedi too much. “Senator Amidala, you are under arrest for treason against the Galactic Empire.”

_ “Galactic Empire?” _ she gaped. “I am a Senator of the  _ Republic Senate. _ I represent  _ democracy _ and the right of all people to rule themselves. How is supporting democracy  _ treason?” _

“Ma’am, I have been authorized to use force if necessary. I recommend that, for the safety of your child, you come along quietly.”

She glanced down at her stomach, at the bump clearly visible with the more form-fitting clothing she was wearing. She couldn’t risk harm coming to them…

But something was telling her to stall, just a little bit longer. Padmé lifted her chin and stared the expressionless helmet in the face. “Before I follow you, I demand to know the reason for my suspicion.”

“Ma’am--”

_ “That is my condition. _ As a Senator, I order you to answer me, trooper.”

The trooper hesitated, just a moment--

And collapsed to the ground as a blue lightsaber slashed through his armor from the shoulder to the ribs. The other three immediately moved to face the new threat. Two were forced to keep moving, their rifles triggering and hitting weak spots of the other one’s armor, instantly dropping him to his knees. The lightsaber slashed through the rifles on its way to their hearts. The one on his knees shot at the lightsaber, a fool’s errand. Both shots slammed into glass on the ceiling, shattering the transparisteel. With a final flourish, the lightsaber separated his head from his body. 

Anakin Skywalker stood in the middle of the carnage, lightsaber flashing back to its dormant state. His gaze lifted from his opponents to scan the room. “Padmé!”

For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of gold covering the blue eyes she loved so much, but it was gone in a blink. “Anakin!”

He caught her against him, holding her close (too close, like if he let go she was going burn along with everything else he had ever held dear) and buried his face in her hair for a moment. “Padmé.”

She held him just as tightly, the images of the burning Jedi Temple still visible on the screen behind him. “Ani--the Temple--the HoloNet’s been saying things, rumors that the Jedi attempted a coup, rumors that everyone’s been  _ killed _ even the Council and the  _ Younglings--” _

His arms tightened even more. “The Younglings are  _ safe,” _ he growled. “I made sure of that before I left.”

“Where?”

“Not here. There might be bugs and I can’t risk letting him know. Hell, I’m risking a lot just saying that.”

“Who?”

Anakin didn’t answer. She drew back and studied his face. It was drawn, his jaw tight with so many emotions she was sure she couldn’t see them all, but most of all were his eyes. There were tear-tracks down his face, eyes red under a few unshed tears, sapphire blue clouded with pain and grief. His hair was matted with sweat and a little blood (she wasn’t sure it was his), robes tattered and what looked like  _ lightsaber burns _ were seared into his arms. Frankly she was surprised he was moving the right one at all. “Who?” she asked again, a terrible dread settling into her heart.

Anakin closed his eyes and shook his head, pulling away from her and pacing towards their room. “We have to get out of here. What do we need for the baby? How long do we have, a month? I think we can get to Naboo in less than a week, but I’m not sure that’s the best plan--no, no it has to be Naboo-- _ kriff _ what if they come early?”

“Anakin!”

_ “What?”  _ He whirled around to face her again, eyes narrowed and angry and for another moment she thought they were gold before he seemed to catch himself. Anakin took a deep breath and rubbed his Human hand over his eyes. “Sorry. Sorry. Just-- we  _ really _ do have to get out of here,  _ right _ now.”

“Okay. I understand why you have to leave, but I need to know why there are  _ troopers _ after me.”

“Padmé--”

“I’m coming with you either way,” she told him, “But I really need to know what--what happened.”

Anakin didn’t seem to be breathing. His eyes were locked on the burning ziggurat outside the window, locked on something she couldn’t see. He didn’t move for many long moments. Padmé stepped forward, reaching a hand out to gently touch his shoulder. “Ani?”

He finally looked at her. She swore she could feel the fear rolling off him in waves. The Hero With No Fear was completely and utterly terrified.

“Sidious,” he whispered, “Sidious happened.”

Her eyes widened. “The Sith Lord I’m not supposed to know you and Obi-Wan were tracking?”

“Sidious--Palpatine. He--he killed half the Council before I got there. Windu was--he--I-- _ weak.” _ The last bit came out as a snarl of anger. 

(Padmé couldn’t tell who it was directed at.)

“The Chancellor? I should have known that sleemo was the Sith,” she growled. Her hand squeezed his arm, just above one of the burns. 

“And then--the Temple--I--”

Something in him seemed to break, or maybe mend itself. He tore himself away from her touch, fire in his footsteps and running up his arm from where she’d grabbed him. “He--he  _ knows, _ Padmé. He said he knew how to save you, but I don’t--No one that knows how to save a life asks for  _ that.” _

Her next question was cut off by Anakin pulling her to him and activating his lightsaber at the same time the turbolift doors opened. Over the blade of the lightsaber she could just barely see four figures rush out of the elevator. “Milady!”

_ Sabé. _ “Oh my gods are you alright?” Anakin’s stance relaxed and he shut his lightsaber off, allowing Padmé to run forward and grab onto her handmaidens’ arms. “Moteé, your shoulder--”

“Is fine, Milady. Are you alright?”

“Yes, thanks to Anakin. Are you sure?”

“Milady,” Typho interrupted her, “we’re more worried about you. Those troopers were using lethal force. What did you  _ do?” _

Padme glanced back at Anakin, who was only half paying attention to Threepio who he was helping off the ground, his eyes still locked onto the burning Temple. She turned back to her Captain and loyal handmaidens with a wry smile. “I supported the Jedi when they’ve been declared traitors without trial. Coruscant isn’t safe for me or Anakin right now. We’re leaving for Naboo, at the very least. If you don’t want to come, I won’t make you, but I’d appreciate the help.”

The four of them glanced at each other, then at their Senator. “With respect, Milady, you couldn't kick us out if you tried.”

“Plus, if you think I’m leaving you to take care of my niece without me, you have another think coming, Senator.”

Padmé laughed and pulled Sabé into a hug before waggling her arms at the others just out of her reach to signal them to join in. “Thank you.”

* * *

Anakin glanced around the landing pad that held Padmé’s star skiff. Artoo had said he didn’t see any troopers, or hear any chatter about them coming for the ship, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Palp-- _ Sidious _ had already sent troops after her once, he was sure to do it again.

The question was, had Sidious sent them before or after he’d marched into the High Council Chamber? He hadn’t felt anything that would mean Sidious had figured out that he’d snapped out of whatever trance the duel in the office had put him in--he was  _ not thinking about that, not thinking about what he’d done, not thinking about the Temple, the Temple, the screams it was so loud what had he DONE _

_ Monster. Murderer. All things die, Anakin Skywalker, and this time it was your fault. _

“Ani?”

A gentle hand reached out and tangled itself with his flesh hand. He jolted and glanced down at his wife, looking up at him with love and concern in her brown eyes. 

_ You don’t deserve that love. Leave her, before you kill her too. _

“Ani, come on,” she said, tugging him up the ramp. “Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down.”

Wordlessly, he followed her, trying to bring himself back to the present. A relieved twirdle from Artoo provided something to focus on as the astromech wheeled into the main hold, C-3PO behind him. The familiar rumble of engines lifted them into the air. Padmé pushed him down onto one of the chairs by the big table and smiled at Artoo. “Hey, Artoo, thank you for getting the ship ready.”

He beeped a rising two tone that translated to [Anything for you, Milady.]

“Any word from the others?” Anakin asked him.

_ [Tantive IV _ took off just before lockdown. R7-A7 no longer on-planet. Not enough info to track others.]

He sighed in relief. “At least some of them got out.”

Padmé looked at him from her chair next to him. “That’s Bail’s ship. Did you send the younglings to the Loyalist Committee?”

“The ones I knew you would trust, yeah. What’s this about lockdown, Artoo?”

Artoo beeped a low tone. [Chancellor-Sith ordered lockdown to prevent Jedi from leaving.  _ Resolute _ in charge of enforcing.]

Anakin stiffened, sore arms cramping with how hard he was gripping armrests. “It’s  _ what.” _

[Two civilian ships shot down for refusing.]

“Oh my,” Threepio gasped, “Civilians?” 

Anakin stood and stalked towards the turbolift to the bridge, Padmé hurrying after him. “That’s  _ my ship.” _

“Anakin, you’re not in command of it right now, any deaths caused by it are not your fault.”

Fists clenched, Anakin glowered at the wall. “And if I had just _done my job,_ _none of this would be happening.”_

His  _ job. _ He was supposed to be the kriffing  _ Chosen One, _ the one who would bring “balance to the Force,” and what had he done? He’d caused the suffering of thousands, the betrayal of the entire command structure of the army. He’d  _ personally murdered _ the Master of the Order, and had been intent on stabbing his lightsaber through the Grandmaster and anyone else he could reach.

He should have thrown Sidious out the window and followed him.

The turbolift doors opened to a minor controlled chaos. Typho was in the pilot’s seat, Sabé next to him, while Moteé and Dormé frantically tried to figure out how to deal with the blaring comm. “NDC  _ Aurora, _ this is your single warning. Return to Coruscant immediately.”

“Give me the comm,” Anakin growled, reaching the two handmaidens.

Moteé hesitated a moment, a trickle of fear seeping out of her presence, but handed it to him. “We told him we had an important diplomatic mission, which we actually  _ do _ have on record as the Senator was going to leave for Naboo to have the baby, but that doesn’t seem to have worked…”

“I’ll make it work.” He flipped the comm on, and barked an order at the trooper on-duty. “Jox, get me the Admiral,  _ now.” _

There was a brief moment of shuffle on the other end of the comm before a new voice came on.  _ “Aurora, _ I demand to know who--”

“Vader,” he snapped. “You  _ will _ let this ship through, Yularen.  _ Now.” _

He could practically hear every trooper on the bridge stand up straighter. “Yes, Sir. The  _ Aurora _ is clear for hyperspace.”

“We never had this conversation, you will not record this ship’s exit vector, and this ship never appeared on your scanners. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Lor--”

“Good.  _ Aurora _ out.”

He stayed tense until the stars streaked into lines and the  _ Aurora  _ was safely on its way to Naboo. Once they did, he let himself lean against the bulkhead, the cool metal grounding him in the ship.

He was free. Free from Sidious’s clutches, free of Sith machinations, free of politics and war. Free, even, from the Jedi. There was no one to force him to adhere to their dogma, no one to order their will upon him, no one to beat him with fists and words. Just him, and his wife, and their kid, and her friends. 

Freedom.

_ (You have never truly known freedom, Skywalker, and you never will. Isn’t it ironic?) _

_ (The slave who makes free will never see what they profess to give.) _

“I can’t believe that worked,” Moteé breathed. “How did you do that?”

“Stolen code,” he answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie; it was a code and he had, in a sense, stolen it from himself. “Little Force suggestion doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re not a clone, though. Why did they not blast us the moment you used it?”

“...The raid on the Temple wasn’t led by a clone.”

Padmé’s hand landed just below the lightsaber burn on his right arm and rested there as the bridge sat in silence. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”


	7. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The leader of Operation: Knightfall struggles with his own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my new writing song for this fic: <https://youtu.be/rzDPk8tqwvQ>
> 
> I haven't gotten around to writing it yet but anidala definitely spend the first day after Anakin's back being two dorks in love and having playful arguments about whether their kid's name is gonna be Luke or Leia. Anakin's thinking Leia, and Padmé's thinking Luke. Of course, if Anakin bothered to actually pay attention instead of getting sucked up into Sith machinations, he'd notice they're both right.  
> (eventually)

Padmé had pushed Anakin into the ship’s small sonic shower and promptly slumped onto her bed. Her feet hurt, and her legs, and  _ god _ she’d been standing for too long today. Even the harness wasn’t helping. “Lukie, Mommy loves you, but she will be  _ very _ happy to get you out into the world,” she mumbled at the baby. 

The only reply she got was a kick to her bladder. At least she’d just gone to the bathroom. 

She must have slipped into a light doze as the sound of a door sliding open woke her up sometime later. “Ani?”

“Just me, Milady,” Dormé whispered. “I came to see if you needed anything.”

Padmé groaned and curled on herself a little more. “My back hurts. And my feet. And I’m cold.”

“Sounds like painkillers and a heating pad, Milady.”

Dormé was quickly back with the requested painkiller gummies and a nice and warm heating pad. Padmé mumbled her thanks as the other slipped the heating pad into its attachment on the harness. Something in the back of her mind was nagging at her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. 

“Maybe you can convince your hunk of a husband to give you a massage when he gets out of the sonic,” Dormé grinned. 

Padmé blinked, suddenly very awake. “He’s still in the sonic?” Glancing around, she discovered that Anakin was indeed not splayed out on the other side of the bed, or rummaging in the small closet for something that would fit him. How long had she been asleep? She reached for her water bottle and datapad to check the time.

That was when she realized both objects were hovering several centimeters off the table. The ship’s gravity was still working, as Dormé had walked around normally, which left only one reason.

“Oh kriff.”

* * *

This is what it feels like to be Anakin Skywalker, in this moment:

The terrified whisper of a child echoes through your head, over and over,  _ Master Skywalker there are too many of them what are we going to do what are we going to do whatarewegoingtodowhatarewegoingtodo _

You didn’t do enough. At least a third of them got off-planet if Arseven was gone as well as the  _ Tantive IV, _ but you didn’t do  _ enough.  _ They’re  _ safe, _ you  _ know _ that, but the thoughts of what you  _ could _ have done, what you  _ had intended _ to do, what you  _ did-- _

_ I’m sorry, Anakin. _

_ Monster. Murderer. All things die, Anakin Skywalker, and this time… it was your fault. _

You’re terrified of yourself. 

You, the HoloNet’s lauded Hero With No Fear, are absolutely, completely and utterly, terrified of yourself. The supernova furnace of your heart lies cold, devoured by the dead-star dragon. If you are capable of so much, what would you do to the ones you love? What would you do to Obi-Wan? To Ahsoka? To Padmé? To your child? 

Palpat--Sidious would laugh at you.  _ Weak, _ he would call you. And you are. You couldn’t  _ save _ her. You can’t  _ live _ without her. Your rock, your compass, your star in the dark. 

_ Sometimes we find our strength in taking the harder road, Ani. _

The voice that sometimes accompanies the dead-star dragon whispers in your ear. It’s not cold, not made of the remnants of a dying star. This voice holds all the heat of fusion, as gentle as a candle on a Tatooine night. 

_ If you cannot trust yourself, then trust in them. _

You become aware of a gentle pressure against your wrist, something warm wrapped around it, a bright star in front of you that could blind even Sidious. She’s talking, and finally, you can see the world in front of you again.

“--and so then Moteé had to put it on the balcony, lest Riyo run into it again.”

“Angel?” you whisper. 

She smiles up at you, the one she always gives you when you finally come back to yourself, relief and love and worry all bundled up into one soft look you wish you could bottle and drink on long campaigns as it keeps you going far longer than any GAR rations ever could. “There you are.”

She looks positively exhausted, and you’re pretty sure you remember something about pregnant people not being in sonic showers. “Sorry. Should move.”

“I turned it off, Ani, I’m fine.”

Well, you know  _ that’s _ not true, given the edge to her Force presence. “No, you’re not.”

She sighs. “I’m worried about you. You’re floating things again.”

Oh. You reach out, feeling for everything you swept up into the air as your power leaked out from cracked shields and gently releasing them back to their resting places. “I… sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Anakin.”

But you  _ do _ because you  _ killed them, you killed them, you slaughtered them like animals, like you did the Tusken tribe on Tatooine, you slaughtered your ancestors along with your supposed saviors  _ and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, to drive her away because  _ what if you did it to her-- _

But you can’t. You can’t open your mouth. You know you should, she deserves to know, but you  _ can’t. _

_ Trust in them, _ the warm fire whispers.

“Anakin?” your love asks as she tries to push you towards the bed and your feet don’t move.

“Padmé, if you knew…” the words don’t come out, and you find yourself asking another question entirely: “If you knew where the entire Separatist leadership was hiding right now, what would you do?”

She pauses, considering. “I would want them to face justice for their war crimes, and the crimes before this war truly started. I… don’t think the Republic is going to be able to even attempt to do that for much longer. And I know I couldn’t bring them to justice myself; I cannot be judge, jury, and prison guard. So I suppose… I would take them to some planet I knew would mete out proper justice. Corellia, maybe, or Mon Cala or Pantora.”

You give her a wry smile, the first one you’ve worn since you left the Temple in ashes behind you. “Not Naboo?”

“Oh please,” she snorts, “with the various incidents during this war, not least of which is the Blue Shadow Crisis, and, lest I forget, the  _ Invasion? _ Every single Naboo would serve Gunray’s head on a platter to their dogs. That’s not even taking into account his personal vendetta against me, and thus the public’s vendetta against him. No, Naboo would not give a fair trial. Now, come on, I have at least a shirt of yours somewhere in the closet, and then we’re getting under the blankets and you’re giving me a massage because my back hurts and you’re warm.”

“Yes, Milady.”

Padmé falls asleep before you, curled into your chest to suck as much warmth and comfort as she can from you. You still haven’t told her, you still don’t know what you would even say. She deserves to know, but you are selfish, and cannot deny yourself this night with her curled against you. Yet, telling her would also be selfish in a way, shifting some of the burden to her, and this is yours alone. Your mistakes, your choices, your hands. 

_ Trust in them. _

Maybe you can fix it, in time, and maybe you’ve already started, but you doubt it will ever be good enough. The horror you’ve unleashed on the galaxy cannot be recaptured, cannot be contained, perhaps cannot even be killed. Perhaps it’s not worth it to even fix. Perhaps your one chance at redemption was pushing Sidious out the window and following him. 

_ Sometimes the hardest road is living with our mistakes, Ani. _

_ I’ll think about it, _ you decide, _ in the morning.  _

You fall into the only true sleep you’ve had since you crashed the  _ Invisible Hand _ into Coruscant’s surface to a gentle Tatooine lullaby in your ear. For the first time since you were called back from Mandalore, your eyelids don’t close only to let in her screams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have _plans_ for R7's part in the Youngling escape, but they're getting their own fic bc this is already a beast. The planning doc for this has sixteen chapters. It used to have thirteen before I split things bc I don't like super-long chapters. I keep splitting things. It keeps getting longer.


	8. Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ Clone Wars "Shattered" yeah shattered my HEART.
> 
> This is the chapter where the EU really starts getting referenced. Ekkreth reference (but not the Zygerria stuff, that's mine) is again fiarelli's.

Ahsoka had her face in her hands, elbows on her knees, as she tried to process what Rex had just said. 

_ They put chips in our heads. _

“No one knew?” No, she already knew that no one had known, because if the Council had known, Obi-Wan would have known. If Obi-Wan had known, then Anakin would have known, and he would have been  _ livid, floating-everything-in-the-Temple livid,  _ and moments later a certain Senator for Naboo would have been rallying the Senate to the cause. She still remembered how he’d been after the plan had gone awry on Zygerria, the fury clouding his presence as he led her to Kix to take the chip out before heading down and unleashing the thunderstorm wherever the revolution pointed him. The stories Ketric and the other revolutionaries had told her still wandered through her dreams: Anakin Ekkreth, the slave who makes free. 

“How did you get it out? Kix?”

Rex shook his head at that one. “I could barely think about it without getting headaches. I don’t think the flash-training would have let him get it out. No, I ran into one of the Nulls.”

Ahsoka squinted. “The Nulls?”

“You don’t know about the Nulls?”

“Rex,” Jesse said from where he was under the console of the ship, gingerly trying to put a few wires back in place, “the Nulls are basically the closest kept secret of the ARCs. Hell, I didn’t learn they existed until the General dropped you and me on a mission to get intel from Kom’rk, and General Skywalker wasn’t  _ supposed _ to know about them, it’s just impossible to hide anything from him.”

Rex seemed to consider the point for a moment before moving on. “The Nulls were the first batch of clones. Rumor has it the Kaminoans were going to terminate them for being too unpredictable, but they ended up in the care of one of the commando training sergeants. They were trained differently from us, but every original ARC knows about them, and most field-promoted. Ever since General Tur-Mukan disappeared and Omega Squad got attached to the Third Fleet, it’s been a lot easier for me and Cody to get in contact with them.”

“So, how did the Nulls help?”

“Apparently, Mereel knows where to stick a knife  _ very carefully. _ He was pretty pissed when I told him what I knew, so I’m betting Skirata was in the middle of coming up with his own plan before everything went down.”

Ahsoka nodded acknowledgment. “How… how did you confirm what Fives said?”

Rex, Jesse, and Kix glanced at each other. “Echo.”

Her head snapped up.  _ “Echo?” _

They told her the story of Anaxes and Skako Minor as she sat, horrified at what the Techno Union had done to one of her friends. “He went with the Bad Batch after that. Hunter’s kept in contact through the ARC comms. Turns out that Echo’s actually a really firefeking good infiltration specialist; between him and Tech, they’ve gotten in and out undetected in more places than the entire first two years of the war.”

“So… how did he confirm?”

“I got a call from the Bad Batch a few weeks ago to meet them in some backwater on Denon. To do all the shit they’d done, Tambor had to take the chip out of Echo. He’d managed to get his hands on the scans they did of him before everything and confirmed where it was. I called Niner, Niner called Mereel, and a short while later, we had two Commando units and myself de-chipped, with the Nulls and several others on the way.”

Ahsoka sighed. She was glad that Rex had managed to save himself and others from the machinations of what she was willing to bet was the elusive Sith Lord. He was a credit to the 501st and all the vod. 

She still had one more question, and she was dreading asking it.

“Rex… how did you know it was about to happen?”

Rex sighed and moved so he was sitting next to her, within reaching distance. “Ahsoka, I don’t understand the Force most of the time. I have  _ no _ idea what you felt back on Mandalore, but I  _ do _ know what it’s like to lose a brother. The look on your face…

“I’ve served with General Skywalker since Praesitlyn, his very first command. I’m the only ARC that made it out of that bloodbath, one of the few that can give a first-hand account of what he did to save the hostages. I haven’t seen a single thing that can knock him down that he won’t roll over and destroy. Not repeated electrocution, not even a  _ Venator _ exploding in his face. He’s earned his reputation as the Hero With No Fear. So when you looked at me with the face I’ve seen on too many vod and said his name… there was only one possibility.”

She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, some part of her still in Commander mode refusing to let even one tear slip. “He--there’s a chance. He’s the  _ Chosen One.  _ As much as he hates that title, he’s the most powerful Jedi I’ve ever met and Obi-Wan all but told me that Mortis proved that. There are stories of traumatic events causing broken Force Bonds and Rex, he was--he was  _ so scared, I can’t feel him--” _

Her voice broke, lungs failing her as the truth that she couldn’t feel Anakin anymore sat in the open. Strong arms wrapped around her as a sob ripped itself out of her chest, the familiar blue and white armor the only thing keeping her together. She cried for all the things she never got to tell him, for the loss of the one person that had always believed in her and given her the guidance to believe in herself. Even if he was still alive, severely injured and in Force-cuffs, there was no guarantee she’d ever be able to find him again. The elusive Sidious’s machinations had effectively cut him from his family, whether he still breathed or not. She was under no illusion that he would keep breathing without at least one of them around. Padmé had at least been under attack, she had no way of finding him, and Obi-Wan-- oh Force,  _ Obi-Wan. _

“Kix,” she managed after heaving a few deliberately slow breaths, “where’s the 212th?”

Kix gazed down at her as she shifted on Rex’s shoulder to look at him. “GAR ‘net has them at Utapau as of this morning. Last word before the order went out was General Kenobi killed General Grievous and they were engaging the rest of the droids.”

“501st?”

“Highly classified. Even Rex’s ARC code couldn’t get it.”

“They weren’t even together,” Ahsoka whispered into the silence. 

“The 501st could be classified because they were secret reinforcements.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Anakin was with Senator Amidala. Even with her tendency to get into trouble, I don't think she would have been on Utapau.”

“You think the rest of the 501st is still on Coruscant?”

She didn’t think she just  _ knew. _ Telling Kix that had the three clone troopers shrugging something about  _ Jetiise things.  _ “Good thing we’re not heading to Coruscant then,” Jesse mused. He’d pushed himself out from under the console, apparently deciding that he’d done all he could with the weapons system. “We already know that the entire 501st had the order, and if they did, the Home Guard did, and I’m willing to bet the entire GAR soon enough.”

“Force,” Ahsoka muttered. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to process. “Okay, so the GAR is currently kriffed, except for a select few commando teams, and the entire command structure is likely dead, except for the Chancellor who is at the very least on the marionette strings of the Sith. Lovely.” She cracked a sad laugh, just on the edge of hysterics. “Skyguy and Obi-Wan went to  _ rescue _ him. They took the entire 212th back to  _ rescue him. _ Perfect Sith manipulation, get the legendary duo of the HoloNet propaganda that I’m willing to bet is  _ also _ being controlled by the Sith Lord to rescue your puppet, then  _ kill them _ to garner support.”

“Well, on the bright side, there’s only one Sith now. Rumor mill’s going crazy with the fact that General Skywalker finally brought some justice to Dooku on that mission.”

“The Sith will just have Palpatine let him right back out,” Ahsoka sighed.

“Not if his corpse burned up on re-entry with the rest of the  _ Invisible Hand.” _

She blinked. Well, if anyone was going to kill Dooku, it would be Anakin. She scrubbed a hand across her face, wiping half-dried tear tracks away, and sat up. Giving Rex’s shoulder a pat in thanks, she turned back to the console. “Okay, pity-party over. We’re gonna need intel, and somewhere to lay low for a while. Kix, any idea where Maul’s course is gonna spit him out?”

“General--”

“Rex, I need something to  _ do,  _ or I’m going to wallow in my head for the rest of my life. If it can be useful and get us somewhere safe, so much the better.”

Rex sighed. “You really are a lot like him.”

Kix cleared his throat. “The first system that intersects with the vector isn’t registered as inhabited. Could be a personal hideout.”

“What’s the name?”

"N7-D578.”

_ “Very _ uninhabited, then. GAR have any reports on smugglers or similar in the area?”

“Don’t think so.”

The navcomp beeped a signal to prepare for realspace reversion. “Well, we’re about to find out, I guess.” Ahsoka pulled back the lever as the three former troopers strapped themselves in. The stars streaked into lines before resolving into pinpricks of light around them. Just ahead of them, a beautiful green and white planet slowly drifted around its yellow-orange star. There was something curious about it, something that felt not necessarily wrong, but  _ absent. _ She was oddly reminded of the vision she had seen on Mortis, of the old Jedi Master who felt like an inversion of the Force, a black hole pulling power in rather than throwing it outwards. Reaching out, she felt for the planet--

\--and froze, a frown drawing her eye-markings down. “I thought it was a myth.”

She could see Jesse glancing at her and was fairly certain Rex and Kix were as well. “Uh, Sir?”

“T-6  _ Peacebringer, _ get your Jedi ass out of here,” the comm squawked.

All four jolted, but Jesse was the first to the microphone. “Do I  _ look _ like a “Jedi ass?” I’m just trying to land this boltbucket before it blows up on me.  _ Again.” _

“We already had  _ one _ Jedi shoot his way in here, I’m not dealing with another. Prove you’re not a Jedi or be destroyed.”

They glanced at each other. Those actions had one person written all over them. “Look, we stole this thing from the Republic troops on Mandalore trying to get out. We were there for trade, and the kriffing Jedi blew up our ship when they landed to get rid of the rightful Mand’alor. Bad decision on our part, because the navy’s apparently so incompetent they can’t keep their ships from falling apart mid-flight. None of our weapons even  _ work. _ So could you let us down so we can find passage back home without blowing up? We’re willing to pay.”

Static crackled across the comm. They held their breath for long moments, hoping Jesse’s bluff would work. 

A sigh hissed through the comm. “Fine.  _ Peacebringer, _ set down on pad five of Hyllyard Spaceport. Sending you your vector now. Myrkr control out.”


	9. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up I've spent the week crying about RotS novel quote in relation to the clone wars finale. Specifically [this gifset](https://even-stars-burn-out.tumblr.com/post/617240814968520704/rise-of-ahsoka-the-clone-wars-finale-victory) because that Anakin line ALWAYS gets me. That scene is like half the reason this series exists.

Obi-Wan hated flying.  The fact that he was currently trying to outrun his own troops in an unfamiliar fighter didn’t help. 

Two ARC-170s flashed by his viewport, accompanied by a splatter of red lasers against his shields. With a curse, Obi-Wan juked to the left. A snap-roll to port had him out of the direct line of fire, but the ARC-170s were quickly coming around in a tight loop meant to situate themselves on his tail. He yanked the stick hard to starboard and back, pulling his ship up before inverting it and continuing to roll to what was now port. The maneuver didn’t lose the ARCs, but it did give him enough distance to be able to see them coming.

More lasers splattered his shields. Obi-Wan flipped the fighter onto its left wing and pulled back, shooting the fighter towards the edge of Utapau’s gravity well. He was distantly aware of the _Vigilance_ itself rolling towards his exit vector, aiming to have him within range of its turbolaser batteries. A single strike from one of those would vaporize the fighter and himself in an instant. _Well,_ Obi-Wan thought to himself, _I’ll just have to make the jump before it comes around._

A series of jukes and jinks kept him from meeting the business end of a torpedo, but the other ARC-170 continued blasting at him with lasers. Obi-Wan tipped the nose down, shooting under the arc of fire. Not for the first time since everything went to hell, he wished he had Anakin on his wing. The younger Jedi would have undoubtedly come up with some insane scheme that would lead the ARCs to their own destruction and leave them free to escape. 

Shots bounced off his shields, and the display board screeched a warning at him. “Blast. Arfour, could you--” Obi-Wan cut himself off and shook his head to clear the idea. He wasn’t in his interceptor; Arfour wasn’t there to get his shields back up. Another beep signaled a target lock, while another he couldn’t instantly correlate droned in the background. He snapped into a one-eighty snap-roll that broke the lock for the moment and glanced down at the ship’s sensor board. 

He was out of the gravity well.

Obi-Wan slammed the hyperspace lever forward harder than was strictly necessary, and the stars streaked into the familiar whirl of hyperspace just as the _Vigilance_ opened fire. He reverted back quickly as he hadn’t actually plotted a jump, ending up in empty space well outside of the Utapau system. He swiveled the fighter around in a random direction and made another short jump into an almost identical spot of deep space. And with that, he was safe for the moment.

As the ship figured out which way was Coreward, Obi-Wan fiddled with its long-distance comm. Punching in a few codes had it tuned to a Jedi channel. What he heard froze his blood cold. The come-home signal was supposed to be an accelerating series of beeps. This was something different: a series of decelerating beeps. It was not something hard-coded into the Temple’s beacon, but the meaning was obvious enough.

_Run._

But he couldn’t run. Not when he knew who the Sith was, not when he still had a Padawan and grand-Padawan missing.

The ship beeped that it had figured out which way was Coreward. Obi-Wan programmed a series of jumps that would take him back to Coruscant. Back to the Sith.

Back to Anakin.

Once he was in hyperspace, Obi-Wan tapped the controls-lock button and set the ship to alert him when it got to the correct point for realspace reversion. He took silent stock of himself, noting bruises that had become more apparent during his climb out of the city, as well as various cuts, scrapes, and burns he’d picked up over the past day. Given his lack of bacta patches, a healing trance was in order, but Obi-Wan knew himself well enough to know he couldn’t manage the sort of calm that would need.

He still couldn’t feel Anakin. He knew he was barely closer to Coruscant than he had been, but some part of him had hoped that leaving Utapau would have allowed him to feel his former Padawan. He wasn’t going to be able to manage the sort of calm he needed until he knew for sure what had happened to Anakin and Ahsoka. 

Resting his hands in his lap, Obi-Wan leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes. The blue-white swirl of hyperspace lit up the backs of his eyelids, at the same time comfort and anything but. He took a deep breath and slowly released it, falling back on the old mantra of the Jedi Code he always used to begin meditating.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

A breath, released into recycled air. With it went his anger, his fear, his pain and worry. He could not find Anakin if he clenched his hands into his feelings.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

A breath, released into the confines of the cockpit. With it, he expanded his presence into the ship, feeling the inner mechanisms of engines and shield generators and comms.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

A breath, released into the blue-white of hyperspace. With it, he breathed in the steady stream around him, using it like a rock to anchor him in the present.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony._

A breath, released into the Force. 

_There is no death, there is the Force._

A remnant of a scream was the first thing he felt. A massive amount of death, all over the galaxy, thousands of people. Thousands of _Jedi._ The darkness that had been creeping through the Force was overpowering, drowning out the little stars of people and hope and love that made up the Force. 

He still couldn’t feel Anakin. Distant Coruscant was a black hole of hatred and triumph, the source of every wound in the fabric of the Force. There was no comforting, bright star attached to him, nothing on the edge of the Force Bond. It hurt to prod at, hurt to pull and desperately call down _please, Anakin._

But, curiously, the bond didn’t feel like his one with Qui-Gon had. It wasn’t tattered, no frayed threads lacking their other side. It simply… ended. The threads hung in space, complete and whole and _taught,_ ending far too soon, as neat as if they had been cut by a lightsaber. It was just impossible for Obi-Wan to reach any further down them.

Without a connection to Anakin, he had no way to find Ahsoka. Whatever fledgling bond they might have formed through two years of war had collapsed when Ahsoka left the Order and was no longer in constant contact with him. Obi-Wan knew that Anakin’s bond with her had been as strong as ever, but given how their bond was, he wouldn’t take the odds that was any longer the case. 

The overpowering darkness dragged him back into his own body, leaving him in the cockpit with only more questions and no further towards answers. 

* * *

Sometime later, Obi-Wan found himself jerked awake by the alert for realspace reversion. He rubbed fitful sleep away before pulling the lever back. The swirl of hyperspace streaked into lines before resolving into pinpricks of stars and a sparkling world of lights. Obi-Wan blinked at the world for a moment before checking his coordinates. He hadn’t _meant_ to end up at Denon, but apparently, that was what the Force wanted of him. Far more awake now, he reached out hesitantly, searching for why the Force would want him here. 

He got his answer in the form of a cheeky poke to his presence with what felt suspiciously like a gimmer stick. Almost directly afterward, his comm lit up a tight-beam transmission from a corvette in the outer reaches of the system. “Master Kenobi? Are you alright?”

“Senator Organa! I’m not terribly wounded, but I’m certainly _not_ alright.”

“I’m opening one of the _Tantive IV’s_ bays. I’ve got someone here waiting for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the dogfight at the beginning is somewhat based on Corran and Tycho's simfight at the beginning of Rogue Squadron bc that was what I had next to me while trying to remember how space fights work when your pilots aren't in a giant sentient lion that is perfectly willing to bite a starfighter in half.   
> (Speaking of Rogue Squadron, I accidentally spent three hours today working them into WTPD in various forms. Sneak Peek: Leia is eventually extremely pleased that she gets to help them piss off Fey'lya)


	10. Things That Shouldn't Exist

Ahsoka stood just outside Hyllyard Spaceport, unmoving. The three clone troopers were standing a few feet beyond her. Clothes they had salvaged from the T-6 were haphazardly thrown over their armor in a fashion that didn’t disguise the outline but did disguise the GAR and 501st markings. Their helmets, Ahsoka’s lightsabers, and an assortment of random things that might be useful from the T-6 were haphazardly thrown in a bag over Rex’s shoulder. They looked perfectly normal for a spaceport that shouldn’t exist. 

That was what disturbed her. This spaceport shouldn’t exist because this  _ planet _ shouldn’t exist. She couldn’t feel the distinctive signatures of three of her friends, even though if she took two steps, she could  _ touch _ them. It was as if the spaceport were a bubble in the Force.

Or, rather, that the planet was a bubble. It kept her presence pressurized, kept her in herself, unable to reach out. She was deprived of the sense she had unconsciously relied on for all her eighteen years. 

“Gen--Ahsoka? You alright?”

Ahsoka forced her eyes to focus on the men in front of her, instead of looking off into the distance as she tried in vain to sense them. “I don’t like this place.”

“Well, we are in a den of smugglers and pirates. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ohnaka made an appearance.”

That got a snort out of her. “It’s not what’s here, it’s what’s  _ not _ here. I can’t… feel anything.”

Rex frowned at her, exchanging a glance with Jesse and Kix. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “Not here. You heard the controller’s reaction to Maul; I’d rather not advertise myself more than necessary. I’m not sure I could even explain it. Let’s find a cantina or something.”

As they walked through the city (if it could be called a city), Ahsoka caught flashes of feeling in the Force, but never for more than a few steps. Her senses phased in and out among the buildings with no discernable pattern.

The cantina they found, the Ysalamir’s Branch, was much the same as any other pirate den, except for the fact that she couldn’t feel the pirates. Jesse seemed right at home, walking in and claiming a stool like he owned the place. Ahsoka followed Kix and Rex to the bar, feeling a little lost. This was the sort of situation she still felt like she should have Anakin by her side, even after most of a year. She sat on a stool that allowed her to place her back to the wall, a small comfort when she couldn’t feel the world around her. 

“Y’offworlders, eh?” the Bith bartender said as they made their way over to the group. “Whad’ya want?”

“Three Corellian ales, please,” Jesse told them, “and something not intoxicating to Togruta for the General. She’s flying.”

The Bith raised an eyeridge at them. “General, eh?”

Jesse paled slightly, realizing his mistake, but Ahsoka had seen how pirates and mercenary crews titled themselves enough to throw it off. “That’s right. General Ashla of the  _ Shadow. _ We’re the best mercenary crew this side of Anaxes. Here to kick some ass and look pretty doing it.”

Laughing, the bartender slid three ales towards the clones. “And you three have a tiny Togruta leading you. What bet did you lose?” 

Rex looked like he was about to pull the bartender over the counter. “Now see here, the General is one of the best fighters I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with--”

_ “Rex. _ This slime isn’t worth your time. Here,” Ahsoka flipped a credit chit at the bartender, one of the ones they’d gotten after selling the T-6 for scrap. “Now, scram.”

The bartender obligingly headed to the other end of the bar. Kix followed them with a watchful eye. “Can’t say this planet’s got a good first impression.”

“When has a pirate den ever? At least this place isn’t tied with Florrum yet.”

“I’m still waiting for Ohnaka to show up,” Rex muttered into his ale.

“Eh, last we heard of him he was still picking his gang up after the Shadow Collective bombed his base and had to get saved by Kenobi.”

“It’s been a year,” Ahsoka reminded them, “I bet he’s back to his old pirate ways. He just owes Obi-Wan one now.”

Kix tipped his head. “Would explain why he hasn’t attacked any GAR shipments.”

“Circling back to the reason we’re here…” 

“Right. Well, General, you’re the one, uh, the other General always took into this sort of situation. What’s next?”

Ahsoka thought for a moment, scanning the dimly lit cantina. “I can’t leave Maul out here to wreak havoc, even if I can’t bring him to the Council anymore. I’m not gonna make you guys follow me, but I’d appreciate the help.”

The three looked at her. “General. We’d follow you to the ends of the universe.”

She ducked her head. “I know, but… He’s a Sith. You saw what he did to Vaughn and his men. There’s only four of us.”

“Well, yeah,” Kix said, “but now we’re shooting to kill. You managed to capture him once, it can’t be that different to kill him.”

“And ya got us now!” Jesse gestured to the three clones. “If there’s one thing we know how to do, it’s kill Sith.”

“General.” Rex said her title like he would her name, putting all the emotion he felt in it. “I’ve said it before. We would follow you to the ends of the universe and beyond. If dealing with Maul is your goal, it’s our goal.”

Ahsoka studied them. They were earnest, completely and entirely honest in the way of those that knew nothing else. She couldn’t turn them away, even for their own safety, as they’d just follow her into the depths of hell. “Thank you,” she told them, trying to covertly damp down on tears of gratitude.

The three of them smiled at her the way they did at their brothers, just for a moment, before switching to business. “He came here for a reason,” Rex started, “Maybe the comms on that ship of his are damaged. You said the Pikes and Crimson Dawn are still working with him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Black Sun had ties to them now. He’ll want to make contact with them.”

Kix frowned, considering. “Any number of cantinas on this planet could have comm stations. Maybe we should just stake out his ship.”

The three clones started discussing the logistics of a stakeout, but Ahsoka wasn’t listening. Across the cantina sat a young Human, not any older than Anakin. She could make out olive skin and long brown hair, paired with the beginnings of a goatee. His grey-blue eyes met hers, and even without the Force, she got the sense that he was watching them. Wordlessly, she raised an eyemarking. The man rose, eyes still on her.

Rex, Kix, and Jesse quieted as he approached. “Can we help you?”

“My friend, I believe the question is whether  _ I _ can help  _ you.” _

Rex narrowed his eyes and moved his hand towards one of his DCs. Ahsoka put a hand on his to stop him. “The name’s Ashla. We’re looking for some information on a target.”

“Karrde. What sort of information?”

“We’re looking for a Dathomiri Zabrak. He should have landed here within the past day or so.”

Karrde nodded. “I believe you’ll want to meet my employer.” He turned and made a sweeping gesture to follow him. “If you will?”

* * *

Jorj Car’das leaned back in his chair and put his boots up as Karrde left the room to usher their new customers in. The younger man had said something about them being “interesting parties,” which tended to mean he was about to do some very good business. No matter what information they wanted from him, they likely had something far more valuable merely by their presence alone. 

As the door opened to admit them, Car’das had to prevent his eyebrows from raising. The first was a Human man, armor clearly visible under his clothes. The next in was another Human, lightning bolts shaved into short hair. His face was very,  _ very _ similar to the first one’s. The third was a young Togruta, but he skipped over her for the moment to focus on the fourth: poorly grown in hair just barely hid the large tattoo that covered most of his head, but enough of it was visible on his face for Car’das to see the Republic symbol.

More importantly, he had the same face as the other two.

Interesting. Very, very interesting.

Car’das didn’t move from his lounge as he spoke to them. “Ah. You are the four interesting parties Karrde brought to my attention. I hear you’re looking for a Zabrak.”

The Togruta shifted and crossed her arms, drawing Car’das’s attention back to her. Given what he was reasonably certain the three men were, her position could only be a few things. She was young, lekku just about the average length of an adult Togruta but not quite the size. The white markings on her orange skin had not yet shifted entirely to adult versions. Something about her seemed familiar as well, in the way of someone you often saw on the news. A diplomat, perhaps, but her visible armor and the way she walked spoke of one who had trained beyond the usual Togrutan instincts. Nor did Car’das miss how the three men shifted at her glance into a defensive circle around her. “We are. We’re willing to pay.”

The Coruscanti accent, blurred though it was, was a dead giveaway.

He gestured to the chair across from him and she sat down. “Willing to pay, eh? How about an information exchange?”

The Togruta leaned forward. “How about we start with knowing who we’re dealing with?”

“Car’das. You’ve already met my lieutenant, Karrde.”

“Ashla. My associates are Rex, Jesse, and Kix.”

Car’das pulled his boots off the desk and leaned forward on his elbows. “Well, Ashla, I’ll tell you where you can find Maul, and  _ you _ can tell me what three clone troopers and a Jedi are doing on Myrkr.”

All four stiffened. Car’das could see Karrde hiding a smirk out of the corner of his eye. “I--I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please. Those three,” he gestured to the troopers, “look far too alike to merely be “brothers” or whatever you’re trying to pass yourselves off as, and you, “Ashla,” not only named yourself after an aspect of the Force, but the only Togruta I’ve ever heard with a Coruscanti accent later sliced up one of my best clients.”

The Togruta’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

Car’das leaned back in his chair again. “My dear Jedi, I’m an information broker. Knowing is my job. So. You tell me how you ended up here with three clones following you when rumor has it the entire Grand Army of the Republic has gone berserk, and I’ll give you Maul’s location.”

She looked at him for a moment, but then sighed and admitted defeat. “Rex?”

One of the clones, Rex, stiffened. “General, you can’t--”

“We need the information, Rex. We’ll be dead or gone soon enough. Besides, maybe this guy will be able to get the information to someone useful.”

Rex hesitated a moment more, then started speaking. Car’das’s eyes widened as together they wove a tale that centered on slave chips. They were obviously not telling him everything, but that was just good business sense. Even so, he knew several people that would pay handsomely for what little explanation they’d provided, and one that would kill him for knowing. “Well, that’s horrifying.”

Kix snorted. “Tell us about it.”

Car’das rubbed a hand over his eyes, processing who likely had to have arranged the slave chips. It lined up disturbingly well with other facts he had discovered about his primary employer. That was something he could deal with after this transaction was completed, though. “The Shadow Collective has a base in the Great Northern Forest. One of my contacts spotted a red-and-black-skinned Zabrak headed there with a few others. Karrde, can you find the coordinates?” Karrde nodded and produced a datapad, flipping through it for the correct file. “One more thing. You don’t seem like you have a speeder handy, and I doubt you want your quarry finding you before you’re ready. I’m willing to provide you transport, however…”

The Togruta sighed. “What else?”

“This one’s more of a personal consideration, rather than a business trade. I want to know why I recognize you.”

She considered him for a moment. “You might have seen me on the HoloNews.”

“When?”

“I dropped off the map about a year ago after a rather lot of publicity.”

Her face finally clicked into place. “Ahsoka Tano. Most people think you’re dead.”

“I’d like to keep it that way, Car’das.”

He gave her the first smile he’d given since they walked in. “As I said, personal consideration. Your life is safe with me, Tano. Karrde, get them some speeders and to the base. I have some business to arrange for after the fireworks are done.”

* * *

Ahsoka leaned over the dashboard of the speeder as Karrde weaved the speeder through the dense trees of Myrkr’s Great Northern Forest. The last rays of sunset cast eerie shadows over the landscape. It seemed like every time they twisted around a particularly large tree, her Force sense flickered for a moment like the light, letting her feel pieces of the vast forest but never the whole picture. 

“You’ve got an odd look on your face,” Karrde said, glancing over at her.

“This planet… I’ve heard myths about a planet that doesn’t exist in the Force. I never thought I’d end up on it.”

“It’s because of the Ysalamiri. Little lizards that live in the trees. Car’das told me once that they make bubbles around them that disrupt Force-sensitives’ abilities.”

She glanced over at him. “How does Car’das know that? Is he Force-sensitive?”

Karrde just grinned. “Do you think I’d tell you that?”

“No,” Ahsoka huffed.

Karrde slowed the speeder behind another large tree. Lights were just visible in a clearing beyond their position. “That’s the compound. Landing pads look full; must be why his ship is in Hyllyard. The barracks are just beyond that big house.”

“Thank you, Karrde. Tell Car’das thanks from us too. Oy, boys, you ready?”

“No intel, no backup, back on the case of a Sith Lord?” Rex paused for a moment, and Ahsoka was absolutely certain it was for dramatic effect. “Sounds like a General Skywalker plan. We’re in.”

Ahsoka grinned, showing her teeth. “Then let’s make Anakin proud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't originally intend for Karrde and Car'das to show up, despite placing this team on Myrkr. They forced their way in and bribed me with a new subplot for further down the road and invoking yet more [One Degree of Separation](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/OneDegreeOfSeparation)


	11. Refuge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know those chapters that just Don't Work and you write five different versions of it before trying a pov you were never really going to try but it worked? That's this chapter. It's still a mess, but it exists, and I need to just get it Out Of My Head. It would help if I hadn't decided halfway through that it really worked better before the chapter I had as my buffer chapter. Oh well.  
> On the plus side, I have most of the next three chapters written. This one, the next Obi-Wan one, and the next Myrkr Crew one are all somewhat connected by a fourth chapter so they're easy to write. Sort of.

Day-cycle found Anakin drifting in a slow haze. The bed was empty beside him, but he could sense Padmé just beyond the bedroom door. She was blinding, a bright light in the Force in the blur of hyperspace. 

It was odd, suddenly realizing just how much Coruscant’s darkness, how much  _ Sidious’s _ darkness, had blinded his senses. Their afternoon spent basking in Coruscant’s sunlight and playfully discussing baby names felt like decades ago, yet it had barely been a week. Here, away from Sidious’s direct influence, the Force was a swirl of grey, the light and the dark intertwining in a way that was almost… beautiful. Within it were seven points of starlight, so much brighter than they had seemed on Coruscant. Typho was running a check on the lasers and engines while Padmé sat chatting with her handmaidens, a note of worry in her presence that hadn’t left since last night that he didn’t know how to remove. 

… wait.  _ Seven _ points of starlight? 

Awake now, Anakin ran through his mental count again. Apart from himself, there should have been Typho, Sabé, Dormé, Moteé, Padmé, and the baby on the ship. Six presences. So who was the seventh?

Frowning, he pushed himself off the bed and headed towards the seventh presence. It was sitting with Padmé, almost on top of her, but it didn’t feel malicious at all. The door opened at his touch, and he studied the scene in front of him. Four people, one heavily pregnant, sitting at a table. He squinted at it, trying to reconcile his vision with his Force sense.

Anakin glanced over the room, then back at Padmé, who was looking at him with a concerned tilt to her mouth. “Anakin? Why are you making your “I’m trying way too hard to sense something no one else can see” face?”

And then it hit him.

“Padmé, you’re pregnant with twins.”

* * *

Silence descended on the hold. All three handmaidens squinted at their Senator, while Anakin was back to looking at her, but clearly not  _ looking _ at her. Padmé herself was staring at her husband, jaw almost on the ground. “I--I am fairly certain that the med droid would have told me  _ that.” _

“You know, you do look bigger than my sister did at this stage,” Moteé mused, still studying Padmé, “I’d chalked it up to the fact that you’re, well, tiny, Milady, but I think Anakin may be right.”

“Padmé,” Sabé asked, “What was the exact wording of the med droid?”

Padmé looked between the three handmaidens. “Would you like to know their predicted identifying information. Oh Force, are you saying that was a plural they?”

“Quite likely, Milady.”

She groaned. “I thought it was just using neutral terminology.”

Two babies. She and Anakin were having _two babies._ _Twins._ She had plans to change and a nursery to renovate in _very_ little time, and _oh Force, they were running from a Sith Lord, and they were having twins._

Anakin laughed, drawing Padmé out of her whirlwind thoughts. “I can differentiate them now. They have  _ such _ a strong bond that I couldn’t do it before. It’s almost like they were protecting each other, even before they truly formed conscious thoughts.” His grin was infectious as he slipped into the chair across from Padmé, still looking without looking. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. Force, everything is so much  _ clearer _ now.”

Twins. 

* * *

“Milady?”

Padmé looked up from her datapad, where she was reading through the information she could access from hyperspace about twin births. Anakin had fallen asleep again, or maybe he was in a healing trance, and while she was a little worried, either option was good for him given the state he’d been in. She set the datapad down on her other side and looked up at her visitor. “Yes, Typho?”

“What is the plan for when we get to Naboo? If General Skywalker is correct, then we must consider the fact that Palpatine knows where you live. Given everything you’ve done against him in the past few months and the likelihood of him realizing that General Skywalker is with us, it’s an inevitable fact that he’ll send troops again.”

Padmé sighed. “I have to tell the queen what happened. She deserves to know the truth behind her beloved Senator’s disappearance and quite possibly supposed death. And--and my parents. And Sola. My nieces. I can’t just  _ leave. _ I know I could send a message, but that leaves a data trail, and I just--Force, I just want to hug my sister. Just once, before we disappear. And, for all I know, Palpatine is already planning on having them arrested or worse just for associating with me.” Padmé froze for a moment, that thought triggering another. “Typho, the Petition signers.”

He shook his head. “We’re already taking too many risks for my liking, Milady. There’s nothing we can do for them anyway.”

“There has to be something--”

“Padmé. We’re running from the  _ Supreme Chancellor. _ He has the authority to track all messages through any comm buoy, to make arrests without a warrant or probable cause, to order executions,” Typho glanced over at Anakin, and continued, quieter, “like he did the Jedi. Milady, we’re dealing with someone far more powerful than the Sith that killed Qui-Gon Jinn. I cannot allow you to make any contact with others that would end up endangering not only yourself and your children, but the others as well. Your family I can protect myself, but other senators I cannot.”

Padmé looked down at Anakin, at the lightsaber burns still visible on his bare arms. “I know. I know you’re trying to do all you can. Thank you for that.”

“The Temple was a warning to them as well. Have faith in them, Padmé. They will do what needs to be done.”

* * *

Sola Naberrie jumped when the comm sounded, a quiet beep that was too loud in the room’s melancholy. Everyone in the room glanced up at it, and she heard the noise in the kitchen quiet. “I’ll get it,” she called over her shoulder as she stood. 

Jobal looked at her, pausing her crochet. “If it’s the guard--”

“I’ll ask, Mom.”

She made her way through the veritable maze of chairs in Varykino’s big sitting room to the comm station inlet in the wall. It was just beyond the fortifications around the front doors, the grand view of the lake behind it hidden by sweeping gold and red curtains. No one had been in the mood to open them since the rumors started. Tapping the answer button, Sola shifted her weight impatiently. “House Naberrie.”

The hologram emitter flickered to life, revealing a shorter woman in less regalia than her station usually permitted. “Sola, I am glad I caught you.”

Sola blinked at the image for a moment before her brain caught up and she bowed. “Queen Apailana! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I’m afraid I have to ask you and your family a favor, Sola, although I do believe it will be one you are happy to accept.”

“Whatever you request, Milady.”

“Sola,” Apailana stated, voice low and serious, “I am not asking you this as the queen. I am asking you this as a good friend of your family.”

“Milady, even were you not the queen we would still do what you request. I only ask that we may ask a favor in return.”

Apailana managed a small smile. “A high ranking member of my court was recently the subject of several assassination attempts. I do not believe those who have ordered her assassination know she is still alive, and she has acquired herself the best bodyguard she could wish for, but she requires a place to lay low for a few days while her team coordinates a better solution. Would you be willing to house her and her security at Varykino?”

Sola looked back at her mother. Jobal nodded. “Of course, Milady. She will be welcomed with open arms. When shall we expect her?”

“Soon. Sola, she has all my knowledge of what I’m fairly certain is your favor, knowledge I am not willing to impart over a comm channel, no matter how secure.”

“Thank you, Milady. May I ask--”

Her words were cut off by the doorbell ringing. The noise was picked up by the comm’s microphone, which caused Apailana to burst into decidedly indecorous laughter. “Apparently he  _ does _ fly as fast as HNE says. Thank you once again, Sola. I’ll leave you to invite your guests.”

The queen flicked the comm off as Sola hurriedly bowed once again and turned towards the doorbell. A quick tap at the camera display by the door brought up the camera just above the door. Three women and a man in understated Naboo Guard regalia stood in the background. They were accompanied in the foreground by a face she vaguely recognized from the HoloNews and recognized more from before the war, and just in front of him… 

She threw the door open.  _ “Padmé!” _

Padmé gave her a sheepish smile. “Hi, Sola.”

* * *

Padmé found Anakin, somewhat predictably, on the balcony overlooking the lake. She slipped an arm around one of his and leaned against his shoulder, joining him in looking outwards. “I’m sorry if Mom is being overwhelming.”

“Actually, I’d blame your sister,” he mumbled.

Padmé snorted. Sola was almost as bad as their mom when it came to hounding people for information. She supposed that was a plus in a Royal Intelligence agent. Still, it was undoubtedly terrifying to be the one facing it,  _ especially _ if one was Sola’s newly revealed secret brother-in-law. “She means well.”

“I know. At least I’m not the one who just shrugged and said “the Force wanted grandchildren.””

She gasped in mock offense. “Well excuse me if it’s the only explanation that makes even a lick of sense.”

He grinned at her, but it seemed forced and quickly faded. Padmé twisted around to properly look up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I just-- it’ s--sometimes I feel like--like he’s in my head. Like he knows every move I make before I make it. What if--what if he figured out what I--”

Anakin trailed off, his words almost visibly stuck in his throat. Padmé paused with her mouth open, poised to drag them out of him, but an odd sensation distracted her. “Oh.”

He snapped to attention, muscles tensed and a note of panic rising in his voice. “Padmé?”

“You know how I said we’d only be here for a day or two and head somewhere else before the twins were born? I don’t think we’re getting that chance.”


	12. Diverting Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've finally gotten the Mass Effect out of my system and we're back on track here

Obi-Wan forced himself to take a deep breath. As one of the only two remaining Council members, he was responsible for the Younglings that Bail Organa had so kindly rescued. He could not and _would not_ have a breakdown.

 _Even_ if this was the very situation that made a breakdown fully justified.

"And you intend to keep them on Alderaan?"

Bail nodded. "Breha almost slaughtered me when I showed up with them, but she didn't let them out of her sight the entire time I was home. If we hadn't just adopted Winter, we would take them in ourselves. We have a few contacts within Aldera that would gladly keep them safe and loved."

"Safe, they will not be."

Obi-Wan looked at Yoda from across the table. "Master, there is _nowhere_ they will be truly safe, not as long as Sidious lives. As long as he still breathes, he will be searching for them, for _us._ The Temple is _burning._ There is a _reason_ the beacon screams for us to stay away."

Yoda hummed across from him. "Correct you are, Master Kenobi. The gravest threat, Sidious poses. But even together, strong enough, you and I are not. To protect these children, to defeat Sidious and Vader, help we will need."

He knew as Yoda's gleaming eyes bored into him who the Grandmaster meant. Obi-Wan lowered his head, unable to look the other in the eye; he had no good news to deliver. "I have not been able to sense him since before I left Utapau. Our bond is… silent. I am not even sure he is still alive."

"Hm. Felt it, you would have. More than a training bond, your bond is. Perhaps affected by the disturbance in the Force, young Skywalker has been."

"Master, a Force bond does not break like that."

"In the Temple, Skywalker must have been. For one as powerful as he, whose shields are so easy to break down, painful the Force is right now. Broken it himself, he might have."

Obi-Wan frowned at the diminutive Master. "Broken it himself?"

Yoda nodded, shifting slightly in his chair. "A defensive mechanism, closing himself off from the Force too tightly. Fearful, Skywalker has always been, of losing. To feel your death through the Force…"

"But, Master Yoda, that would require him having foreknowledge of the clones attacking."

"Precognition, he has always been prone to. Impossible, it would not be. Would be why he managed to help the Younglings escape, as well."

Obi-Wan had not considered that. Admonished, he bowed his head to the other Master.

"If I may interrupt, Master Jedi," Bail quietly interjected into the pause, "there are more Younglings. Shuya informed me of four others that Skywalker sent them to. I've discreetly contacted Senators Mothma, Bel Iblis, Chuchi, and Tills and confirmed that they do have some of the Younglings in their care. Chuchi mentioned an elderly Jedi as well. Sadly, none of them mentioned Skywalker. I am concerned, however, about the list of Senators he sent them to."

Both Obi-Wan and Yoda peered at him. "Why?"

"There seems to be one missing. All five senators Skywalker sent the Younglings to were at a… discreet meeting a few months ago when the Security Act amendment was proposed to the Senate. Skywalker somehow seemed to know exactly who was at that meeting and thus would be sympathetic to the Jedi, despite having no reason at all to have that knowledge. He sent them to everyone except the host."

Obi-Wan gave the exasperated sigh of one who had spent half his life dealing with the absolute pile of bantha shit known as Anakin Skywalker's subtlety and self-control. "And would this host happen to be Senator Amidala?"

Bail gave him a wry smile. "Yes. I assumed he'd gone to her, but it doesn't quite make sense to me why he would not bring some, if not all, of the Younglings with him. Splitting up to hide numbers makes sense, but why would they travel without a guide if he could give them one? Padmé and Naboo would welcome them all with open arms."

"Did the Younglings mention anything about her?"

Bail shook his head. "Any attempts to contact her have failed. Even Queen Apailana has been quiet. And... there are rumors. Of another assassination attempt. This time by the Jedi."

Obi-Wan considered. Anakin would never let anyone with malicious intent get near Padmé while he capable of so much as thinking. It was clear to him that Anakin had, at the very least, gone to her apartment. Lightsaber wounds would account for the assassination attempt being blamed on the Jedi, but if he were a betting man, he would bet on something much, _much_ worse being after her. "Master Yoda, Senator Organa, if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way to Naboo."

"Alone, you would go?" 

Obi-Wan paused, halfway through standing up. "Master Yoda, if Anakin has taken Senator Amidala and gone to ground, as I feel certain he has, he is of no mind to be helpful, much less courteous. Moreover, he almost certainly knows Sidious's civilian identity. I regret not seeing the signs sooner, but the Chancellor has indeed been a friend to Anakin. That is not something Anakin will soon put aside, even if he knows how he has been betrayed. If he was capable of killing Sidious right now, the Sith would be dead." 

"Hm. Convince him yourself, you intend to."

"You know as well as I how hard it is to convince Anakin of anything. Given the state of things, he is likely very defensive right now. Even my presence, not acting as a member of the Council but as a friend, could be interpreted in a… poor light. I believe it best if I find him myself, Master. Only then do we have any hope of earning his help."

"I wish you luck, Obi-Wan," Bail told him as he looked up from a datapad, "but unfortunately, I cannot provide you passage to Naboo. I have just been informed that all the Senators are being called back to Coruscant for an emergency session of the Senate."

"Planning something, Sidious is. To Naboo go, Obi-Wan. To the Temple, I will head to see what of the Archives salvageable are, and proof of Vader's identity find. Meet on Alderaan, we can, when finished your mission is."

"Yes. I will have Antilles provide you a code so you can land without incident."

"Very well." Obi-Wan stood again and bowed to them. "May the Force be with you, Master, Senator."

* * *

The _Tantive IV_ lept to hyperspace in a prismatic burst, bound for Coruscant. Obi-Wan watched as it disappeared before turning his attention to his controls. On a whim, he input the code to tune the starfighter's comm to a specific subspace frequency that Anakin and Ahsoka often used to communicate with the various rebel groups they and the 501st had trained. Not entirely to his surprise, a message popped up. _To_ his surprise, however, it was not preceded by the Fulcrum prefix, but another that he didn't immediately recognize. Wracking his memories, Obi-Wan managed to produce the correct decryption code.

What resulted was a set of coordinates and what seemed like a defense deactivation code. Following the two strings of numbers was a single line of text and the translated prefix:

> Do with them what Padmé would do. Fearless.

Fearless. The Hero With No Fear.

Anakin.

Anakin was alive; the message was dated after Obi-Wan had fled from Utapau, after he had sent the Younglings to their saviors. He had not died to Order 66. The message did not give him hope for Anakin's state of mind, however. The implication that something had happened to Padmé… 

Obi-Wan had no idea what awaited him at the coordinates. A distraught Anakin? A crashed ship and a body? Nothing at all? Who was the "them" here? It was entirely possible that the Sith had found the communications and were leading him into a trap.

In any case, he only had one way to find out. Obi-Wan swung the ship around in the direction of the coordinates and pushed his hyperspace lever towards Mustafar. After all, if it _was_ a trap, then Anakin would surely find the message and see it for what it was.

And they had a _policy_ on traps.


	13. One Last Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried writing this from the team's POV. Maul's turned out much better. And seeing the vision is nice.

_A room full of fountains sat silent. No water flowed through cleverly hidden pipes, through hands, through minds, through the Force. All there was was the shadow of death, and hatred, and a terrible, terrible pain._

_A familiar cackle sounded when the doors opened with a flick of the Force. A Jedi he knew of but had never fought marched in with destruction in his eyes, and his red-bronze lightsaber already ignited in his hand. He was the instrument that caused that terrible, terrible pain._

_“Ah, Anakin, my dear boy.”_

* * *

“Lord Maul?”

Maul opened yellow eyes and stared through Saxon’s faceplate. “Gather me any information you have on Anakin Skywalker. Now.” The Mandalorian saluted and stalked off to the city’s comms center, leaving Maul to sink back into his chair.

Sidious had gained another pawn. A pawn close to Kenobi. Perhaps he could kill two rancors with one bomb.

* * *

The voices were screaming.

The grand plan was coming to fruition.

But something… something was not what anyone thought.

Maul closed eyes that had snapped open when he felt the first snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting, reaching out, considering.

He smiled. 

His former master had played his final card. The game had come to an end. As fear and death and a heart-wrenching terror poured out through the Force, Maul laughed. Such a brilliant plan, with no detail overlooked.

Except one.

The final sabacc card had not been frozen so long ago. 

_Skywalker…_

* * *

The red-clad troopers entering his cell was not unexpected, nor was opening the cursed contraption the Mandalorian rebels had placed him in. 

What _was_ unexpected was just how little effort he had to put in to have a finger slip, freeing him from his restraints. The two clones quickly succumbed to the lack of air in their throats. 

It was time to get out of here. He would not be thrown away again like scraps from the table to a begging dog. The crystal of his lightsaber was calling out to him from nearby, and the little Togruta was providing enough of a distraction. He had plans of his own, organizations that could prove a thorn in Sidious’s side.

Maul had no plans to let Sidious have the last laugh. 

* * *

Myrkr Control apparently remembered his ship from the lesson he’d taught them last time he’d landed. Maul supposed the one thing he had to thank Sidious for was leaving such a distinctive ship in a place easy to steal. The _Rogue Shadow_ was a beautiful ship, with capabilities he was still discovering several months after taking it. 

One of those abilities was not, however, creating landing pads out of thin air. It took him two hours longer than it should have to stalk into the big house on the compound and start barking orders to arrange a meeting with the heads of the Shadow Collective’s various disparate parts.

And, the worst part, he had to go through the damn forest. _Force,_ he hated ysalamiri. If they weren’t so useful to hide from certain Sith Lords, he would have them exterminated. Maybe once he stabbed his lightsaber through Sidious’s wrinkly little head.

So, with the meeting arranged and a dinner of roasted ysalamiri in hand, Maul retreated to his quarters. Quarters was really a bit of a misnomer. He really preferred _lair._ It had a certain connotation that he considered far more suitable to the leader of one of the greatest syndicates in the criminal underground. 

Sith Lords don’t lounge in their quarters. They _lair._

Did that make him like Sidious? Well, Sidious certainly didn’t _lair._ All the pictures of his office in the Senate building were the picture of Naboo elegance, and Maul certainly couldn’t imagine Sidious settling on anything less for his personal apartment. Sidious didn’t have a lair. He had quarters. And an _office._

Fool. A very, very smart fool, but a fool nonetheless. What the reports his contacts had forwarded had matched with what he’d experienced on Mandalore: Sidious had managed to twist the clones’ loyalties around against the Jedi. The Jedi Temple itself burned, and although no explanation had been provided yet, Maul knew whose fault it was.

But there was the matter of Tano, with her loyal guard dog clone who had refused to shoot her. He was almost certain that they were already on his trail, hounding him on the order of Sidious even though they didn’t know it. Were there others as lucky as her, whose troops managed to bypass whatever machinations Sidious had put into place? Was this just another one of his plans and they were all playing into it?

What, _exactly,_ had happened to Skywalker?

Somehow, inexplicably, Tano had been right. His vision was flawed. Skywalker was not under Sidious’s control. The Jedi with destruction in his eyes and a lightsaber with a crystal as old as time had not marched.

And yet the Temple burned. 

He could _sense_ that something had changed. Skywalker _was not_ with the Sith. So what had happened that the Temple still burned? What had he interpreted wrong? 

Something drew his attention upwards, outside the compound. Maul stared out the window, reaching out to the edge of the bubble around the compound and feeling for what had brushed against his attention. It had disappeared into the ysalamiri bubble again, far beyond his senses. Whatever, it was likely just an animal, one of those vornskrs. He was tired, despite his enforced nap, and jumpy. Focusing on any little disturbance around him wasn’t worth it when he had a meeting to start and a vision to reinterpret.

* * *

“Mandalore is no great loss. In fact, we are better without it for the upcoming storm.”

Dryden Vos’s hologram raised an eyebrow. “Are you so certain? What about the Jedi that was hunting you?”

Maul turned his lips up in a sneer. “My former Master’s plan has gone _brilliantly._ The Jedi will be no issue.”

“You said that last time,” Xizor growled at him.

“The Jedi are _dead._ If Tano manages to find me, she stands no chance of bringing me to Sidious.”

“I fear you’re tempting fate. This Jedi has already bested you once before, Lord Maul. Perhaps it is best if--”

The power cut out with a deafening explosion. All three holograms before him flickered out as he stood for a moment in stunned silence. _“Idiots!”_ he roared. _“What did I say about patrols?”_

“We--we did increase them, Milord,” a stuttering Aqualish implored him. 

Maul’s lightsaber had a fantastic first meeting with his tusks. “Obviously not _enough,”_ he told the body. “You two, get the back-up generators online. You three, make sure that anyone that _didn’t_ wake up because of that is either dead or about to be.”

Underlings scurrying, Maul stalked out the door of the big house. The generator shed was a pile of smoldering wreckage, providing most of the light in the clearing. Across from him, he could just barely see the remains of one of the storage sheds, doors broken open. The culprits were rather obvious, as they were providing the _rest_ of the light in the clearing.

A clone in blue ARC trooper armor was whooping with delight behind a Z-6 rotary blaster cannon he’d stolen from the shed, blaster bolts cutting down anyone who got in his arc of fire. Behind him, another ARC and one wearing what looked like medic armor were calmly picking off whoever the first clone didn’t get. Maul could just barely make out the Jaig eyes on the second ARC’s helmet. Where one found him, one found… 

“Not thinking of running away again, are you?”

Maul turned around and looked up at the roof of the house. Ahsoka Tano stood, lightsabers unlit in her hands, perfectly framed by overhanging tree branches. “Tano. Last I recall you also had picked up the habit.”

“Only because you seemed to be having fun. Figured I should try it.” 

“Then why, exactly, did you run here?”

Tano gazed down at him, eyemarkings furrowed and shoulders tense, fire blazing in her eyes. “Because what you’re doing here, what you did on Mandalore, is not just profit, not just politics, not just revenge. It’s _people,_ and my master trained me to defend those who cannot defend themselves. I’m giving you an option: surrender now, give up your collective.”

Maul sneered up at her. “I hardly think you are in a position to bargain, Tano. Your Republic is in shambles, just _waiting_ for the new order to rise. The Jedi Order is no more. Your only choice is to join me. Together, we can bring Sidious down.”

“What, so you can feed me more lies?”

“Did I lie?” He gestured outwards, sweeping the carnage behind him and the stars above. “Surely you have felt it too, the terrible pain that claims the Force. The shadow of death covers everything, driven by a hatred that runs deep.”

Her frown wavered. “You may have been right about Sidious, but Anakin would never turn his back on those that needed him.”

“You put too much faith in one so failable.”

“And _you_ put too much faith in dark side visions.”

They stood in a silent standoff for long moments, daring the other to back down. “So be it.”

Maul leaped, swinging his ignited lightsaber down towards her head. Tano rolled backward and came up with her blue blades in a defensive position. He roared and charged, forcing her to backpedal across the roof just to have space to swing. She slashed at him, one blade coming in high while the other stabbed low, forcing him to twist awkwardly out of the way. He slid forward into a better stance and stabbed at her; she flipped backward off the roof and landed in the small strip of groundcover between the house and the forest. 

“Why can you not _see?”_ Maul cried as he jumped down to face her again, “Sidious has already risen.”

“Just because,” she blocked a high strike, “he's risen,” she stepped backward out of the way of a slash, “doesn't mean,” he spun, and she ducked, “we are,” she stepped over a root and slashed at him, but he twisted away, “defeated.”

“My vision may have been flawed, but your Temple still smolders, your masters die in fire and smoke, and Skywalker _will not burn.”_

Tano froze for a precious moment, eyes wide. “Flawed?”

Maul was already in motion, twisting around and forcing her to let go of her lightsabers or lose an arm. She stumbled backward and tripped over a root, landing sprawled on the forest floor. “Pay your last respects to your honored dead, Jedi.”

She hissed at him, a predator’s noise with teeth bared and eyes glinting in the firelight. “I’m not a Jedi. And neither are they.”

Too late, Maul realized that he had walked into the ysalamiri bubble. 

Three shots fired. 

The first hit his legs, searing through the unit that gave him control of them. The second ripped through his clothes to hit the back of his heart. The third burned across his neck, severing blood vessels and unleashing a stream of blood from a half-cauterized wound. His vision greyed as his knees gave out, and he collapsed unceremoniously to the forest floor. 

In the clarity given by the sudden advent of death, Maul considered the failure of his vision and realized it was not as much of a failure as he had thought. The Jedi Temple burned. Order 66 had been activated. The entire galaxy had fallen under Sidious’s reign. The terrible, terrible pain had already been caused, its instrument precisely who he had been told it was.

Maul smiled in death. 

The Jedi with destruction in his eyes and a lightsaber with a crystal as old as time had not marched.

Not yet.


	14. Candles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favorite chapter I've written of anything in a very long while. Big chunks of Palps' speech are taken from [all three canon versions of it.](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Declaration_of_a_New_Order) Chapter title is the second explicit reference to the RotS novel's philosophical musings.

On Myrkr, a former Padawan and three deserters inter a former Sith Lord’s body with what little fanfare they can spare.

In the vastness of hyperspace, a Jedi Master awakens to the sound of the hyperspace reversion alarm.

On Coruscant, a Senator slips into his delegation’s pod at the last possible moment.

In her family’s lakeside estate, a Senator pauses and grips her husband’s hand with a feeling of imminence.

* * *

The Supreme Chancellor’s podium rises into a restless senate. Beside him stand Mas Amedda and Sly Moore, grim expressions on their faces. As it rises, the din of thousands of voices settles to a whisper as beings from across the galaxy watch the Chancellor stand. Those who have heard the rumors feel their breath catch at the sole addition to his wardrobe: the traditional mourning beads of Naboo.

Jobal rushes her younger daughter into the small medical room on the estate. Sola and Anakin follow, the former trying to calm the latter’s brewing panic. The rest of the family clamors for an explanation before Sola shouts the news over her shoulder to the rest of the house: Padmé’s going into labor.

“Citizens of the civilized galaxy, on this day we mark a transition,” Palpatine starts. His voice sounds deeper, sadder, like every single rumor flying around the senate floor is true, and the weight of it all threatens to crush him. “For a thousand years, the Republic has stood as the crowning achievement of civilized beings. But some would set us against one another, and we took up arms to defend our way of life against the Separatists. In doing so, we never suspected that the greatest threat came from within.

“The Jedi and their accomplices in our own Senate conspired to create this Separatist movement, using one of their own as the enemy’s leader. They hoped to grind us into ruin. But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever, and they have finally shown their true natures.”

“Anakin, I need you to _breathe,”_ Sola snaps. “I’m not letting you back in there until you’re actually calm enough to help.”

Anakin tries, he really does, but the vision repeats over and over behind his eyelids, Padmé’s pained whimpers twining together until he can no longer tell what is reality and what is the vision. 

“General Skywalker!” she barks, and somehow _that_ is the thing that pulls him out of it enough that he can see what is in front of him. Her posture is almost military, reminding him of Rex in an odd way. “Focus. Can you feel her?”

“Yes,” he manages.

“Alright. Is she, how is it described, ‘dimming’?”

He reaches out, hesitant tendrils still terrified of feeling the one thing he doesn’t want to.

Padmé is a burning star, her Force presence seeming almost as strong as his own. For a moment, Anakin is caught off guard, the sheer ferocity surprising. And then he scolds himself for being surprised because of _course_ she’s fierce. What is he thinking, that Padmé Amidala, Hero-Queen of Naboo, love of his life, would let a little thing like childbirth keep her down? He takes a deep breath, a real one this time, running through an ancient meditation exercise from what feels like a lifetime ago. “No. No, she’s not. I’m okay now.”

“The rumors are true: there has been an attempt on my life.” Palpatine pauses a moment, letting the gasps of horror filter through the room. “Members of the Jedi Council marched into my office intending to remove our head of government and usurp control of the Grand Army. It was only by the timely intervention of Anakin Skywalker, our beloved Hero With No Fear, that I was saved. He gave up his life in that final confrontation. In the face of death, betrayed by friends he held dear, he stood resolute against those that would destroy our way of life.

“Even those who supported the Jedi throughout this war were not immune. My dear friend, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo, was assassinated by Jedi insurgents. The clone troops sent to protect her have been found dead, a lightsaber the clear cause. Alas, she was not so lucky to have a Jedi loyal to the ideals of our Republic by her side.” 

Senators cry out at both declarations, some breaking into tears. Bail Organa closes his eyes and lowers his head, the picture of a saddened friend. Inside, he seethes. 

Mon Mothma slips into the pod behind him, a fire in her eyes. “It’s not true,” she hisses. 

“I know the truth as well as you do,” he whispers back.

“We cannot stand for this.”

“Mon,” a new voice softly draws their attention. Riyo Chuchi blocks the door behind them, Garm bel Iblis and Meena Tills behind her. “Think of those under your protection. Drawing attention to us now puts them in danger.”

Mon huffs but sits down. “I will think of them, but I will not let him drag their names through the mud.”

“He’s not dragging them through the mud,” Garm snorts, “he’s making them _martyrs._ That’s the one mud I’d _love_ to be dragged through.”

Meena rubs at her fringe. “Worse is yet to come.”

“These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has _never_ been stronger. _The war is over._ Our loyal clone troopers have contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on thousands of worlds. The remaining Jedi and any collaborators will suffer the same fate as the would-be tyrants. The Separatists have been defeated, their final surrender accepted, and their droid armies wait only for the standby order. We stand on the threshold of a _new beginning.”_

Anakin slips back into the room once Sola is satisfied that he is indeed in a better frame of mind. He gives Padmé a smile. “Sorry. I’m okay.”

“Good,” she growls “because this kriffing sucks.”

He huffs a small laugh and reaches to grab her hand. She squeezes it on a particularly bad contraction, and, for a moment, Anakin regrets not giving her his mechanical hand, but the strength of her grip eases the last remnants of the vision in his mind. The pain medication is helping, but none of them were prepared for this to happen right now, in the middle of running for their lives, so it’s not nearly the strength a full hospital would give her. The med droid does its best with help from Jobal, Sabé, and Moteé, but Anakin can tell it isn’t enough.

Anakin closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Padmé in front of him. He can sense her, as well as the two bundles of starlight slowly shifting within her, but his focus is on the swirl of darkness around her. He grabs at it, pulls the pain away from her, and pushes it out into the vastness of the Force.

“Ani?”

He opens his eyes again. The pain on her face has eased somewhat, and she’s staring at him, a wonder in her eyes even as she winces through another contraction. “I only know battlefield healing, but it’s something.”

Sola full on pouts. “Where were you when Pooja was born?”

“Hoth, I think.”

“Senator Amidala and General Skywalker both fought valiantly to support and preserve our Republic to their final breaths. We must honor their memories! It is up to us, now, to see that their work was _not_ in vain. _Never again will we be divided!_ Never again will sector turn against sector, planet turn against planet, _sibling_ turn against _sibling._ We are one nation, _indivisible!_ To ensure that we will always stand together, that we will always speak with a single voice and act with a single hand, the Republic must change. We must _evolve._ We must _grow._ We have become an empire in fact, let us become an Empire in name as well!

“We are the _First Galactic Empire!_ We are an Empire that will continue to be ruled by this august body! We are an Empire that will never return to the political maneuvering and corruption that have wounded us so deeply; we are an Empire that will be directed by a _single_ sovereign, chosen for _life!_ We are an Empire ruled by the _majority!_ An Empire ruled by a new Constitution! An Empire of _laws,_ not of politicians! An Empire devoted to the preservation of a just society. Of a _safe_ and _secure_ society! We are an Empire that will stand _ten thousand years!”_

The senate roars. Bail gapes at the Chancellor. Riyo sits heavily in a seat and puts her head in her hands. Mon’s hands clench into fists. Meena lowers her head, eyes downcast. 

Garm laughs. “There’s the worse.”

“Under the Empire’s New Order, our most cherished beliefs will be safeguarded. We will defend our ideals by force of arms. We will give no ground to our enemies and will stand together against attacks from within or without. Let the enemies of the Empire take heed: those who challenge Imperial resolve will be _crushed._

“We have taken on a task that will be difficult, but the people of the Empire are ready for the challenge. Because of our efforts, the galaxy has traded war for peace and anarchy for stability. Billions of beings now look forward to a secure future. The Empire will grow as more planets feel the call, from the Rim to the wilds of unknown space. Imperial citizens must do their part. Join our grand star fleet. Become the eyes of the Empire by reporting suspected insurrectionists. Travel to the corners of the galaxy to spread the principles of the New Order to barbarians. Build monuments and technical wonders that will speak of our glory for generations to come.

“The clone troopers, now proudly wearing the name of Imperial stormtroopers, have tackled the dangerous work of fighting our enemies on the front lines. Many have died in their devotion to the Empire. Imperial citizens would do well to remember their example and those of Senator Amidala and General Skywalker.”

The others in the room have the babies, cleaning them, checking them over and giving them their vaccine shot, but for the moment, Anakin only has eyes for one person. Padmé is exhausted, sweaty, and he’s pretty sure she’s lost more blood than she should have, but she’s alive.

She’s alive. 

He’s aware there are tears on his cheeks, sheer relief and happiness that he’ll gladly show because she’s _breathing_ and her heart is _beating_ and she’s practically _glowing_ in the Force. 

“I love you,” he whispers against her lips. She lifts her head just slightly to meet him.

“I love you. I’m never doing that again, though.”

He laughs, soft and bright and free. “Probably better for the both of us.”

“The New Order of peace has triumphed over the shadowy secrecy of shameful magicians. The direction of our course is clear. _I_ will lead the Empire to glories _beyond imagining._ We have been tested, but we have emerged _stronger._ We move forward as one people: the Imperial citizens of the First Galactic Empire. We will _prevail!_ We will celebrate the anniversary of this first day of peace as Empire Day. For the sake of our children. For our children’s children!

_"For the next ten thousand years!”_

* * *

The Senate goes wild, the din of clapping, snapping, hooting, and countless other noises drowning out any possible words. In the Alderaan pod, five senators gaze at each other. Each wage a silent internal war, between their duty to democracy, and to their people, and to those they promised to protect. If they are to do anyone good, they must stay as good little senators.

One by one, they lower their heads in defeat as they stand to join the crowd.

* * *

This is how liberty dies.

With thunderous applause.

* * *

Anakin holds Leia in his arms, unable to look away from her round face. She has Padmé’s nose, he thinks, and what little hair there is on her head is dark. Her eyes are baby-blue, but he’s almost certain they’ll change to match her mother’s. One small hand wiggles at him and wraps around his proffered pinky. He tears his gaze away from her to Padmé on the bed; she has Luke at her breast. His blonde hair is almost invisible, blue eyes closed as he drinks, legs wiggling. In the Force, three points of starlight sing to him, their melodies of light accentuating each other, twining around their bonds with echoes of love.

He smiles and vows that he will do whatever he can to keep their stars burning.

* * *

This is how hope is born.

With a silent, tearful smile.


	15. Sithy Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello every time I sat down to write this in the past week I ended up with a new chapter of Jocasta Nu's Side Adventure Feat Revelin so uhhhh. yeah. Have this, and I think I'm going to go post the first set of that too, since I have it.

Nute Gunray was very aware of the fact that Sidious could make any sentient being cower before him, even in holographic form. “L--Lord Sidious, we were not expecting another call…”

Sidious’s growl had Gunray fruitlessly resisting shriveling into himself more. “Lord Vader has been waylaid. I am sending someone else. She shall give you your dues.”

The hologram disappeared before Gunray had a chance to respond. He turned towards the others in the room. “What would cause Lord Vader to be delayed?”

“Perhaps there has been… unforeseen complications with pacification of the Jedi,” San Hill raised. “But it would have to be something of great import for Lord Sidious to send him there.”

“I suppose we shall see.”

* * *

Obi-Wan glowered at his fighter’s fuel gauge as it skimmed through the ash clouds that covered Mustafar’s surface. Coming here from Denon had drained the fighter of most of its reserves, leaving him blindly hoping he’d find somewhere to land and refuel before the ship damned him to a fiery death.

Multiple anti-air guns dotted along the lava banks, but none fired at him. The surface was quiet but for the lava flows, collection droids flitting around like gnats. It almost seemed _too_ quiet. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, feeling for a familiar presence, a raging wave in the calm sea. 

He opened his eyes with a huff when he didn’t find it. Unless he was managing to hide his tsunami of a presence better than he ever had in his life, Anakin wasn’t even in the system. Poking at their bond was similarly fruitless. If Anakin wasn’t here himself, then where was he? Had Anakin sent the message himself or was this indeed a Sith trap? Surely he would have felt it if Anakin had run into the trap and not made it out. 

A large mining complex loomed into view on the other side of a lava flow. Obi-Wan could sense several presences within it, full of confidence built from bravado, the sense that they were the ones in charge. With little choice and the vague hope that it contained fuel, he directed the ship towards one of the landing pads. 

The fighter settled with a thunk to the pad, the last of its energy spent. Obi-Wan merely thanked the Force that he’d managed to settle on solid ground. The canopy required a flick of the Force to open, but he clambered out without trouble. 

Of course, that was when he noticed his welcoming party.

“Uhhh, is this supposed to be the one we were expecting?”

“Well, he used the code.”

“Yeah, the old code. Should we blast him?”

“I dunno. Hey, Commander, should we --aagh!”

The B1 battle droid fell to the ground in two pieces. Blue plasma flashed as it deflected several bolts back to their origins. The remaining B1 raised its hands. “Please don’t kill me!”

Obi-Wan glanced around, feeling through the Force for any disturbances that would signal more B1s, or worse, about to jump him. “This a Separatist base, no?”

“Y--Yes.”

“Who’s here?”

“The Council.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead. “The entire Separatist Council?”

“Yes. Can--can you put the lightsaber away now?”

He gestured to the side of the entrance to the main building with the weapon. “Let me in, then go shut down in a corner.”

“Oh. Okay.” Somewhat to his surprise, the droid did open the door and fold up on itself in a corner. Obi-Wan stepped past it and into the building. 

The complex was cooler on the inside despite the lava flows directly underneath it. Gunmetal grey corridors marched in straight lines, interrupted periodically by red and yellow holographic displays. Obi-Wan paused his slow slink past B1 patrols and the odd B2 to study one of the displays. They were mining metal out of the lava, enormous amounts, far _far_ more than Mustafar usually did. For what? This place didn’t have the usual trappings of a Separatist mine, nor did it have a nearby shipyard belting out Vultures and Tri-fighters. Where was all the metal going?

Obi-Wan twisted around at footsteps behind him, but there was nowhere to hide. Two B2s marched in formation behind a familiar Nemoidian. Both parties stared at each other for a moment. “Viceroy.”

“Y--you!” Gunray pointed a shaking finger at him. The droids’ firing arms raised and aimed.

“I don’t believe that’s a wise idea, my friend,” Obi-Wan said, angling his lightsaber in front of himself. 

Gunray hesitated, but eventually lowered his hand. “You cannot be the one that Sidious sent.”

“Who did Sidious say he sent?”

“He said that Lord Vader--”

Obi-Wan froze. _“Lord Vader?”_

“You know who he is?”

“No, but I know _what_ he is.” Obi-Wan shut his lightsaber off and clipped it to his belt. “Vader is Sidious’s Sith apprentice. Viceroy, he was undoubtedly sent here to _kill you.”_

* * *

Obi-Wan rubbed his hands over his face and stared out at the lava flows. To say that his walking into the main conference room where the rest of the Separatist Council was milling about had gone poorly was something of an understatement. It had resulted in several destroyed droidekas and multiple blaster wounds in people’s shoulders. He hadn’t had much trouble convincing Gunray of the truth of his words. Still, the rest of the Council had taken several hours of his explaining how much evidence he and Anakin had collected over the past few months about Sidious’s plans, and he still got the sense they didn’t completely trust him.

He supposed that a lack of trust was expected, given they’d been leadership on opposite sides of a war. The sudden revelation that they’d all been manipulated by a third party didn’t exactly lend itself to trusting your former enemy.

Further evidence had convinced most of them, most important of which was the sabotage of all their shuttles, but there were still hold outs. As a result, he’d been somewhat confined to the south end of the complex for the past few days. It was easy enough to break out if he wanted, but Obi-Wan wasn’t interested in spreading more bad blood. He just had to hope that someone with access to the Fulcrum decryption codes managed to get a ship to them before whoever Sidious had sent arrived.

And _that,_ the fact that Darth Vader had been _waylaid_ was the conundrum of the day. There was only one thing, only one _person_ Obi-Wan could think of that would keep a Sith from their goal. Wherever Anakin was, he was being hunted. Sidious had found out that Anakin had survived the attack on the Temple, and Anakin had likely figured that out, which was why he wasn’t here himself. A smart move, hiding, one that they would all probably be wise to follow. But what about Padmé? Were the rumors Bail spoke of correct? Or had they fled to Naboo and beyond? He could only hope that Anakin found somewhere to hide with a Vergence nearby in case he needed it.

So, given that Vader was after Anakin, who was this secondary killer? The Separatist Council had used “she” to describe her. Ventress? Doubtful, she just wanted to be left alone last he’d seen her. The Nightsisters had been decimated, and the other Dathomiri tribes would kill the Sith before they worked with him. Maybe she wasn’t a Force user, but a bounty hunter. It would make sense, given the hurried nature of the switch. Aurra Sing?

A glint of drab green caught his eye high in the sky. A ship was slicing through the ash clouds, angling for the landing pad. Frowning, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force towards it. There was a presence, somewhat familiar but unplaceable. They didn’t have the same ferocity that meant they were a Force-sensitive, but there was something about them, something they were hiding. What little glimpse he got of the ship was obscured, but it clearly was a starfighter given the s-foils. An _Actis,_ maybe?

Wait—an _Actis-_ class.

A _Jedi_ ship. And _not_ Anakin.

“Oh, _sithspit.”_

* * *

Ahsoka took Rex’s offered hand and let him haul her off the forest floor. She took her lightsabers when Kix held them out, but her eyes stayed on the dead Zabrak at her feet. “You alright, Sir?”

“At the end--he said his vision was flawed. I don’t know what he meant by that.”

Jesse sounded like he was raising an eyebrow behind his helmet. “Did you want us to _not_ shoot him?”

“No--well--no. He was prepared to kill me. I just wish… I just wish he’d listened.”

“Maul wasn’t really the sort of person you can reason with, especially while trying not to get stabbed.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ahsoka took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. “Okay. I’m good. Let’s sort this place out.”

A few hours later saw the four of them standing in front of a makeshift grave and a pile of collected blasters. “Soooo… what now?”

“None of the ships back there are really in working order after you guys blew up the fuel tank,” Ahsoka said, jerking a thumb behind her. “So I guess we need to find transport back to Hyllyard.”

“I think the pirates took the majority of the speederbikes, but there might be an air truck…”

“How about I do you one better?”

They turned at the new voice. Karrde was in the middle of the clearing, leaning against an airspeeder as he scrutinized the complex. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

“I didn’t think we’d see you again.”

He shrugged. “The fireworks were over. Place like this is a treasure trove for someone in my line of work. Since you’ve done the hard work for me, I’m happy to provide transport back to Hyllyard in return. Car’das would probably pay you for all those weapons, which he can do through me. I’ll even throw in which docking bay Maul’s ship is in.”

Rex raised an eyebrow. “Seems like a lot for so little.”

Karrde just laughed. “War is little to you. I can defend myself, but this? I would lose battalions. You’ve made me a very rich man, so shut up and let me give you a ride.”

* * *

When she stepped into Maul’s ship for the first time, Ahsoka was suddenly hit full force with the fact that Anakin wasn’t next to her. She paused, hand on the ship, feeling it like he’d taught her. Not-colors twined through ducts and wires, painting the ship a multitude of _right_ in the Force. All the experimental tech stuffed into its compartments practically sung to her. “Anakin would have loved this ship.”

Rex stopped next to her, looking back towards the engines. “Yeah, he would have. Even I can tell this thing’s a beauty.”

“Oy, Rex!” Jesse called from the bottom of the ramp, “Let the General figure out how this thing flies and help me‘n’Kix lug these _skanah_ heavy boxes Karrde dropped off onboard.”

Ahsoka smiled and rolled her eyes as she turned towards the cockpit. “Go help them.”

“You sure you don’t want help?”

Hands on her hips, Ahsoka turned back to face him. “Rex. You told me the story of you and Artoo in an ARC-170 _yourself._ I think I’m fine.”

He laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Hey, vode, either put your backs into it or let a vod in to help.” 

The ship was surprisingly similar in control to a Naboo Engineering skiff, although there were clear upgrades that looked like Sienar tech, and a console that was completely unobvious in function at first glance. By the time the clones had Karrde’s boxes stowed in the hold, Ahsoka was confident she could get them to hyperspace and was poking at the comms. “So what’s in the boxes?”

Jesse practically poured himself into one of the seats. “Damn, are these real bantha hide? The boxes are credits, mostly, but also a few things that are more useful to trade to pirate gangs and the like.”

She made a face and glanced up at him. “Spice?”

“Surprisingly, no. Valuable spare parts, some sort of metal, and some things that I think a Jedi would have an easier time identifying than me. You should take a look.”

“I will when I’m done here.”

“What are you doing, anyway?”

“Do you remember helping me and Skyguy train rebel troops in insurgency tactics on some Seppie worlds? I had the idea to check the Fulcrum frequency, just in case one of them needs help, or someone else that knows the codes has any idea of what’s happening right now, but this thing’s subspace transmitter is higher tech than anything we gave the groups, so I had to reconfigure it… there we go.”

The comms console lit up in a jumble of letters before Ahsoka input her decrypt code and let it run its course. She froze as she read through the messages that coalesced.

Two strings of numbers and a string of ominous text, signed off with Anakin’s prefix:

> Do with them what Padmé would do. Fearless.

Two more messages, each more ominous than the last:

> At the coordinates Fearless provided. Have several prisoners, could use a transport bigger than a starfighter. Expecting Sith-sent company. Negotiator.
> 
> Fearless, Vader’s coming for you. Negotiator.

“Oh, _sithspit.”_


	16. Just Desserts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter that's the type you just need to get out of your head even if it's ehhhhh. In the process of trying to help that I wrote... most of Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's parts that are left?

“Blast!” Obi-Wan growled, jamming his lightsaber into the sealed blast door. He could feel the horror unfolding on the other side of the door, the terror bleeding through the Force as those who believed him and those that didn’t met with a swift and painful death. Sidious’s agent had wasted no time.

The slow drag of his lightsaber through the door made him wish that Anakin was with him. The younger Jedi would have likely managed to undo whatever hotwiring had jammed the door much quicker than his current solution. When he finally had a chunk big enough he could fit through, Obi-Wan stepped back and took a deep breath.

The chunk flew through the room beyond, Obi-Wan a step behind it. He spared barely a moment to look around at the carnage around him, the multicolored pools of blood and piecemeal bodies of most of the Separatist Council. San Hill’s severed head was staring at the door he’d come through, eyes and mouth wide as if he hadn’t expected his assailant to follow through. The terror from those still alive was concentrated in the conference room attached to the main control room he was in, thankfully without another door.

A Force push sent the figure in black flying before she could bring her red lightsaber down on Shu Mai’s head. Obi-Wan jumped, landing in front of the Gossam with his lightsaber angled in a defensive position. Sidious’s agent picked herself off the floor and gazed at him under her hood. “Master Kenobi. You are an unexpected prize.”

The voice and what little of her face he could see confirmed his worst suspicions. “Knight Offee.”

“‘Knight.’ How  _ courteous _ of you to use that title after you threw me out.”

“You earned the rank, once upon a time.  _ Please, _ Barriss, you don’t have to do this.”

“Like you have any right to talk! You are part of the problem!  _ You _ are the one that dragged us into this blasted war on Geonosis.  _ You _ are part of the Council that continues to preach peace while hypocritically continuing on! He said I could help  _ fix _ the Jedi! That I could carve out the corruption that this war has filled us with and start anew!”

“And is the new Jedi way to  _ slaughter your enemies? _ To leave them in  _ pieces _ on the ground?”

“If the only thing they will understand is violence, I will give them  _ violence.” _

Obi-Wan gazed at her over his lightsaber. “Spoken like a true Sith.”

“If it fits,” she sneered, and jumped.

Obi-Wan blocked high and pushed forward, running Barriss back away from the Separatist Council’s remaining members. Instead of his usual Soresu, he fell into old Ataru moves with a hint of Shien, all with the intent of driving his opponent out of the room. He feinted low and swept upwards, clashing into Barriss’s guard. She backpedaled as he advanced, delivering punishing blows designed to keep her on the defensive. A kick under her guard sent her through the entryway he’d come from, and Obi-Wan paused a moment to readjust his stance. “Stay here!” he called over his shoulder. The four remaining Council members hurriedly nodded their heads and continued to cower behind the conference table. 

Barriss growled at him as she got her balance back. Obi-Wan pushed her, but she jumped up on the table out of the way. He jumped after her with a low stab; she twisted and blocked, forcing his body too far to his right. She slashed upwards, but he ducked and elbowed her, knocking her off the table.

Obi-Wan looked down at her, twirling his lightsaber. “Surrender. You know you can’t win.” 

“Overconfident, much, Master Kenobi?” she laughed as she picked herself up again. “You’re no better than Skywalker, and I disarmed him.”

“Anakin beat you.”

“And you don’t have the same trick he does,” she growled.

“Barriss, I may not be able to catch a lightsaber, but I am certainly capable of defeating you. Surrender now, and tell me everything you know about Sidious and Vader.” 

“Vader? Why should I know anything about that traitor?”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Traitor?”

“Vader accepted my master’s gift, and then tossed it away like the Jedi Council did me, just like I will do to  _ you.” _

Barriss threw a Force push at him, but Obi-Wan was quick enough to throw one back. They both tumbled backward on opposite sides of the table. Obi-Wan rolled to his feet, shifting back into a Soresu stance as Barriss stood. They stared at each other for a moment, daring the other to make the first move.

Something shifted in the Force around the planet. A trained Force presence, a very familiar presence, had jumped into the system. Barriss’s eyes widened as she realized who it was before turning and running through the hole Obi-Wan had cut earlier. Obi-Wan leaped over the table and dodged through the hole. “Barriss!”

She was running down the long hallway towards the landing pads. At his shout, she looked backward but didn’t stop. Her lightsaber flashed outwards, searing through a control panel. Alarms blared through the station as it shook, sending both of them stumbling into the walls. Obi-Wan skidded to a stop in front of another panel and glanced over the screens. Barriss had fused the controls for the magma shields, allowing the flows to spew over the mining arms and structural supports.

“Blast,” he muttered. He glanced back in the direction of the room where the last of the Separatists were hopefully still cowering. He had an obligation to get them out of here, but that wasn’t going to work if the place collapsed before the ship he knew was just entering the atmosphere could land. If he remembered the layout, there should have been another control panel for the magma shields, closer to the landing pads.

Resolved, Obi-Wan turned back to where he could just see Barriss disappearing around the corner. Instead of following, he cut through a side room into another corridor that provided a straight shot to the landing pads. The station shook as a blast sounded nearby; a glimpse of a display showed that one of the anti-air towers had been destroyed by a powerful cannon. Obi-Wan dashed out of the complex into the open air of the landing pads just in time to see Barriss’s  _ Actis _ interceptor lift off. It twisted away from the complex as the engines whined to full power and blasted off.

A sleek black transport loomed through the ash, startling Barriss into dodging towards the cliff face. She barely saved it, ducking under the ship and slipping into the ash clouds. The ship twisted to fire after her, nose-mounted cannons blasting chunks of rock into the air, but the pilot soon decided it was better to land than chase after her.

He waited in the little cover afforded by the complex as the ship settled on its landing gear and lowered the ramp. He knew who was on board, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it until a figure raced down the ramp. She slammed into him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest even as she made sure her montrails didn’t run him through.  _ “Obi-Wan.” _

“Ahsoka.” His arms wrapped around her of their own accord as he closed his eyes and, for the first time since this nightmare started, let himself hope.

* * *

Ahsoka couldn’t bring herself to let Obi-Wan out of her sight, even as they collected up the few surviving members of the Separatist Council and herded them into the  _ Rogue Shadow’s _ cargo bay. He told her of his encounter with Barriss, which brought another wave of grief to her heart. How could a friend fall so far that she consented to be one of Sidious’s pawns?

Obi-Wan had freaked out slightly when he saw Kix and Rex troop down the ramp, but a few minutes of standoff and hurried explanations had gotten through. (And oh,  _ Cody, _ there was another vod she was going to have to figure out how to free soonest.) Now he was sitting with the four of them in the  _ Rogue Shadow’s  _ cargo bay as they tried to figure out what was happening.

“We never had direct communication with him--”

“That’s a lie.”

Nute Gunray shrunk into his makeshift seat at Obi-Wan’s words. “I can assure you--”

“Viceroy,” Obi-Wan said, leaning forward into the other’s space, “Anakin and I were the ones that found the mechno-chair you left behind on Cato Neimoidia. I don’t know why you’re bothering to try to hide it’s existence now. Please, we need any information you can give us on Sidious and Vader.”

Gunray and Rune Haako shared a look. Next to them, Shu Mai and Wat Tambor shifted anxiously. “Tell him, Viceroy,” Mai whispered.

Gunray lowered his head in defeat. “The first we heard of Vader was when Sidious told us he was coming to defend us during the final stages of the war. We don’t know more than that. Sidious--we never figured out who he was. I’m sure Dooku knew, but you can hardly ask him now. He had--plans. An Empire and we would be allowed free reign. We could be as prosperous as we once were.”

“You mean preying on innocent people and plunging entire  _ planets _ into debt?” Ahsoka growled. 

Obi-Wan put a hand on her shoulder. She still bared her teeth but leaned back. “An Empire?”

“Yes, yes, a great Empire, for all the people. Ruled by one in the ashes of the Republic. Free of corruption and terror, safe and just.”

Ahsoka snorted. “According to whose definition?”

“Ours! We were supposed to help!”

“Viceroy. Given the events of the past few days, would you say you trust my word?”

Gunray looked at Obi-Wan for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I would, Kenobi.”

“You were pawns from the beginning. You were never meant to make it off Mustafar. I was only there by the influence of a very dear friend I fear I will never see again. If it wasn’t Barriss, it was Vader, and I have the feeling that Vader would not have been so easy to scare. You were scapegoats for Coruscant, for both Geonosises, all the way back to the original Invasion of Naboo.”

“I--that can’t be true. We were valued members of the Separatists! Lord Sidious promised us  _ peace!” _

“Peace is a lie to Sith. One they freely wield.”

* * *

“I don’t want to believe this, but here’s the proof, right in front of me.” Ahsoka gestured at the comms console and the transcript of the newly-declared Emperor Palpatine’s speech. “He actually made himself Emperor of the known universe.  _ Force, _ how egotistical does one have to be? Does he genuinely believe that he’s the best person to rule the galaxy, or is he just on a mad power rush and has been since before I was born? And--and treating Anakin and Padmé as martyrs, like, what is he  _ doing?” _

“General Skywalker and Senator Amidala were some of the most well-known and active defenders of the Republic,” Rex pointed out. “If, as we’re pretty sure, they went on the run as soon as the Jedi Temple was attacked, he needs an explanation of where they went. This gets him that explanation and leverages their popularity to catalyze the people to accept his Empire.”

“And what happens when they come back? What happens when Padmé comes storming onto HNE with an explanation of who, exactly, made the last attempt on her life? What happens when Anakin decides enough is enough and tells Sidious to come kriffing get him?”

“What if they don’t come back?”

All eyes in the cockpit turned to Kix. “What?”

Kix shrugged. “I didn’t know exactly what the General was doing with Senator Amidala, at least not as well as Rex here, but I did know they were close. What if they just… run away together? What do you call it, uh, elope?”

A stunned silence settled into the cockpit before Obi-Wan broke it by laughing. “Sorry, I just--Anakin is really bad at hiding his feelings. I’m pretty sure they’ve been married or at very least engaged since before Anakin was a Knight. The “eloping” has already been done.”

Ahsoka frowned at him. “You’re a Councilmember, though? Isn’t that something you have to report?”

“To whom, myself?” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I couldn’t do that to him. She made him happy, and I failed at that for a very long time. In any case, I had nothing more than suspicions before all this. I was cautious not to actually catch him. Kix does have a point, though I do not believe it is very pressing. I know Anakin better than he does, and I know Padmé. It would take something more than their lives being threatened for them not to become a known thorn in our illustrious Emperor’s side. But for any of that to matter, we need to find them first.”

“And before that comes the issue of the Separatist Council sitting in our hold, because Gunray may be a coward, but he still wants Padmé dead, and that’s not a good combination.”

Rex nodded. “Right. I suppose them suddenly appearing on Naboo or Alderaan would be too suspicious.”

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed, “That means no Dac, Chandrilla, Corellia, or Pantora either. We can’t afford to bring attention to any of the worlds Anakin sent the Younglings to.”

Jesse leaned back in his chair. “There’s got to be a planet we can leave them on that won’t immediately kill them, but also won’t immediately kill us. Somewhere with a former Republic presence, but no clones.”

“Not many places on that list,” Obi-Wan mused. “Honestly, I can’t think of a single one. Maybe where Master Kota was last seen? He’s rather militaristic, however. I wouldn’t trust him to keep them alive for very long.”

Rex sat up and snapped his fingers. “Praesitlyn.” 

The assembled frowned at him. “Doesn’t it have a big Republic garrison?” Ahsoka asked.

“Yes, but it’s  _ not clones. _ It’s still Slayke’s people. Part of the Chancellor’s deal was that if they got the Republic IFF codes and official privateer status, they had to defend the ICC. General Skywalker and I kept in contact with them on and off because he was old friends with the Jedi liaison to the garrison. Slayke has no love for the Chancellor and a strong sense of honor and duty. He won’t kill them, especially if General Halcyon survived and got himself there.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Master Halcyon was still officially assigned there before the kill order came through. It’s very likely he survived.”

Ahsoka grinned and turned to the nav comp. “Praesitlyn it is then.”


	17. Danger Sense

Padmé groaned and rolled over as the wail of an infant reached her ears. Next to her, Anakin stirred, but she blindly reached out and touched his arm. “You got the last one,” she mumbled.

“She’ll just set Luke off.”

“We’ll get there when we get there.”

Satisfied that Anakin wasn’t going to get up yet, Padmé wiggled her way out from under the covers. She yawned as she approached the bassinet that held her children. Leia was red in the face and agitatedly wiggling. She soothed slightly as Padmé picked her up, but not by much. “Alright, princess, what’s wrong? I don’t have magic read your mind capabilities like Daddy does.” A diaper check revealed nothing, somewhat surprisingly, and Leia wasn’t making motions like she was hungry. “You just wanna move around, huh? Let’s go for a little walk.” Padmé grabbed a pacifier from the table and gave it to Leia as she slipped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She quieted to an occasional whimper, snuggling closer to Padmé’s chest.

Not for the first time in the week they’d been here, Padmé was grateful that her parents had moved things around so that she and Anakin had the room closest to the stairs. The grand sitting room, with its wide curtains thrown open and the glass door to the balcony, always had something of interest to the kids. “Here we go, Lele, all the night birds a girl could want.” She stood with her back to the window so Leia could see over her shoulder, swaying from side to side. The owls’ calls outside filtered through the still air, accompanied only by the quiet noise of small waves in the lake.

Naboo was so peaceful. She loved her home planet, loved the green and the blue and the brown, the lake, the mountains, the arched ceilings of Theed. Naboo was home, and having Anakin and their children here just solidified that fact in her mind. Padmé wanted nothing more than to stay here and show them all the little places she’d loved in her childhood. Take Luke and Leia down to the lakeshore, help them learn all about the fish and bugs in the lake as they splashed and built sandcastles and laughed as Anakin grumbled his way across the sand. She could take Anakin to that little grotto on the biggest island, stay there for hours and hours, and talk about nothing and everything.

But every day that sat here, giving the twins just a little more time to acclimatize to the world, just a bit more time to breathe in the sweet Naboo air, to feel the life around them, was one more day Sidious could easily find them. Every day Anakin got antsier, restless energy crawling under his skin even on little sleep. He no longer woke, screaming her name in a desperate plea, but she kept catching him when one of them got up to take care of the twins already awake, staring at the ceiling. His words back when they’d just gotten here sometimes echoed in her mind, reminding her that not everything was so peaceful. 

_Sometimes I feel like he’s in my head. Like he knows every move I make before I make it._

Padmé had seen Anakin interact with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, seen the three of them move like they knew what the other was about to do, pull off a flawless stunt it would take trained synchronous performers a lifetime to do. Their bonds were not to be trifled with. Could Sidious have done something to Anakin without him realizing it? Without Obi-Wan and the entire Jedi Council realizing? That wasn’t possible, right?

Right?

Padmé knew they couldn’t stay here forever, not when the Sith Lord knew where she lived, but they’d stayed hidden so far. Maybe they were lucky, maybe Sidious actually believed the words he’d broadcast on the newly coined Empire Day, maybe Anakin was wrong, and he wasn’t coming. They could blend in with the Naboo people, cut their hair, change their names, just be two parents trying to raise their children right in a world quickly going to hell.

Who was she kidding? They’d never be able to not join the rebellion she was absolutely sure was brewing. The Younglings Anakin had saved, the Jedi that must have survived (they had to, he _couldn’t_ be the only one), her friends that now had all the evidence they needed to turn on Sidious. It could take decades, but the Empire wouldn’t stand for ten thousand years. They could live with the rebellion, hopping from planet to planet, acting as the links that kept hope alive. 

But life on the run was no place for a child.

Her daydream was shattered by the beeping of the comm. Leia wailed as Padmé hurried over to it, called by the emergency tone. “I know, I know, shhh, it’s okay, Leia, we’ll go back to the birds in a minute.” She heard an answering wail from upstairs just as the comm lit up with a holo. “Milady?”

Queen Apailana was in full regalia, a hurried look on her face. “Padmé,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t call sooner. They’ve kept me in diplomatic talks and endless meetings well past when they should have. I had to call you on my personal comm from the _bathroom.”_

“Who did? Milady, what’s going on?”

Apailana took a deep breath. “There’s a contingent of clone troopers here. Stormtroopers, I guess. Their markings look like a mix of something red and 501st blue. Please, I _know_ they’re searching for you. You have to get out of there.”

“Too late.”

Padmé glanced at the foot of the stairs at Anakin’s faraway voice. He was staring into the distance somewhere over the lake, Luke whimpering in his arms. “How much time do we have?”

Anakin turned to her, his eyes back in the present and suddenly very cold. “Not enough. Dammit, I thought they were crying because of something odd, I didn’t realize it was their danger sense until mine started up.”

Padmé looked back at the hologram of the queen and took a deep breath. “I suppose this will be the last time we see each other. I’m sorry, Neteé.”

Apailana nodded, sadness visible in her eyes. “I hope at least a little warning will be enough. May the Force be with you, Padmé.”

The Queen of Naboo closed the commlink, and Padmé took a deep breath. Anakin reached out with one hand and brushed hair over her shoulder, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. “What’s step one?”

“Tell Typho. He’s probably in the boathouse watching the security system, so he’ll have some idea, but you’re the one with the Force abilities.”

Anakin nodded. “I’ll do that, get him as much of an estimate of what’s going on as I can. What are you doing?

Padmé forced herself to shift into battle mode. “I’m waking Sola up. She knows this house the best, she’ll have some idea about how to extend our time.” It didn’t matter if it was stormtroopers or the Senate; she knew what it took to win this. She just hoped the sacrifices wouldn’t be too much. She headed for the stairs, already planning escape routes and what they needed to bring with them.

“Hey, Angel?”

She turned, halfway up the stairs, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

“It’ll be fine. I promise.”


	18. See You in Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: threatened violence against a child at the beginning of this chapter, along with some blood mentions
> 
> _jesus fucking christ_ I have had such issues getting the next chapter of this written. ~~doesn't help that I suddenly have a job again after a summer of quarantine I love the professor I work for but for someone whos job involves stuffing as much stuff as possible into less than two hours he is horrible at having meetings end on time~~ I actually still don't have it. But you know what else I have?  
> the rest of the fic. everything but the next chapter. so when I finally get it done...
> 
> fun fact: in writing Literally The Rest Of This, I got all the way to the end of the Skywalker's sections, and only then realized the droids had disappeared somewhere around when they passed through Theed, and had to go back through and re-add them.

“Ryoo, come on, we have to go,” Sola whispered. She glanced behind her, wishing she had Anakin’s sense of where the stormtroopers were. They’d all heard the gunship engines swoop overhead, which meant they were already out of time. At least her kids were old enough to understand why they needed to stay quiet. Though, Luke and Leia had been surprisingly quiet since Padmé and Anakin had woken everyone in a flurry. Maybe it was some Jedi thing, telling even two one-week-old infants they needed to stay silent. 

“Just give me a _minute,_ Mom--”

“We don’t _have_ a minute,” she hissed. Pooja tugged on her dress, trying to drag her towards the door, but Sola put a hand on her shoulder as a gesture to wait a moment. “Your father’s already down with Aunt Padmé and Gramma and Grampa, we need to join him _right now.”_

“But _Mom--”_

“Ryoo. Now.”

Ryoo huffed, then frowned. “Where’d Pooja go?

Sola frowned, glancing down at her side. Pooja had been right behind her, but now she was nowhere in sight. The only place she could have gone was out into the hallway. Sola cautiously stepped through the door, looking to her left for her younger daughter.

A click and a whimper had Sola whirling, one hand pulling her holdout blaster from her dress. Three stormtroopers were standing in the doorway to the sitting room connected to the bedrooms up here. Two of them were pointing DC-15s at her, and the third…

The third was holding his rifle to Pooja’s head.

“Mommy,” Pooja sobbed. The trooper holding her shoved her forward with the business end of his rifle.

Sola couldn’t move for a long moment, couldn’t speak, couldn’t _breathe,_ that was her _daughter,_ her _six-year-old daughter being held at gunpoint._ “Let her go,” she managed. Her voice was calm, but the blaster in her hand was shaking. 

“I don’t think so,” the lead trooper intoned. His armor was outlined in red, unlike the two soldiers next to him who had the oh so familiar 501st blue. “Tell us where Skywalker is, and we’ll let her go.”

She almost laughed. “I thought he was _dead?_ Didn’t Lord Palpatine or however he styles himself now declare both him and my sister _dead?_ What right do you have to come into my home and _threaten my family?”_

“I know you’re lying. One more chance, Agent Naberrie.”

“I--” Her sister, or her daughter? How was she supposed to _choose?_ Anakin could undoubtedly defend himself the best out of all of them, but last she’d seen he had Luke strapped to his back. He was a Jedi, he’d figure it out, right?

Right? She wasn’t about to put her niblings in danger too?

“Too long. Kill her.”

_“NO!”_

The trooper holding Pooja dropped his blaster and began clawing at his throat. He gasped and choked, a wet, sickening sound of a last breath before he collapsed. The two other troopers spun, shouting something she couldn’t hear before they were dragged off their feet by an invisible force. A figure she couldn’t make out in the darkness of the room beyond pulled both their hands backward as the troopers flew through the air, then pushed their hands towards a window. The troopers’ screams cut off abruptly as they undoubtedly hit the ground.

Sola ran and pulled Pooja into her arms. Pooja was sobbing still, clinging to her like a lifeline. She was vaguely aware of Ryoo running up to them, questions in her mouth, and comfort in her arms. “You’re okay, you’re okay, they’re gone, we’re going to get to the speeders, and we’ll all be just fine.”

The figure who could only be Anakin Skywalker walked out of the dark room, a grim expression on his face. Luke was no longer on his back, likely in his grandparents’ arms, and his wardrobe had changed from sleepwear to tattered Jedi robes. He handed her the wristcomm of the trooper lying dead on the floor without a scratch on him. “I’m sorry. I thought we’d have more time. Can you get to the speeders?”

She nodded. “I know the passage that will get us there quickest, and they probably won’t know it’s there.”

“Good. Tell Padmé I’ll catch up once you’re over the lake.”

Sola frowned. “Wait, where are you going?”

Anakin pulled his lightsaber off his belt and looked out the window he’d thrown the troopers through. “I… am going to deal with a conniving fox.”

* * *

Commander Fox looked up at a crash and a scream in time to see two of his troopers hurtle through a window high up on the second of Varykino’s towers. They crashed into the bushes in the garden, an abrupt and thorny end. 

There was only one person who was likely to do that. 

“All units, primary target confirmed on site.” A chorus of copy-that’s echoed over his comm, but Fox only paid half attention to it. His night vision filters had something moving in the window the troopers had done their exit through that he couldn’t quite make out. “Blaster’s team is down. Cross, where is your team?”

“Approaching the boathouse now. No contact-- _Haar’chak,_ scratch that, two contacts-- _oof--”_

“Cross, report.” A pause. “Cross, _report.”_ Fox waited a moment, but no one on Cross’s team answered. “Ortov, get your team down there--”

_“Hey! Hut’uune!”_

Every trooper in the courtyard twisted, pointing their blasters up at the dark figure standing on top of the house. He was lit against the starless night only by a blue beam of plasma extending from his right hand. “You looking for me?”

“General Skywalker,” Fox called, “I’m giving you a chance to surrender without further bloodshed.”

Skywalker laughed, the slightly maniacal sound echoing through the garden over the sound of gunship repulsorlifts. “Oh, and what, you won’t hurt my family? Like I believe that. You work for Sidious, and you _always_ have. You think I don’t remember what you did to Ahsoka? What you did to _Fives?_ You’re a traitor just like the rest of them.”

“And you aren’t?”

“What I am has no bearing on this situation,” he growled, “I’d give you the chance to surrender yourself, but I think I’d rather just kill you.”

They studied each other in the dark of night, not-quite-Jedi and newly named stormtrooper, waiting for the other to move. 

The sky exploded with blaster fire, but Skywalker was no longer there. Fox swiveled, tracking the blue blade through the air as it twirled around its owner before landing on top of one of their gunships. Skywalker slashed his lightsaber through the engines before flipping down into the hold and stabbing one of the gunners through the head. The gunship shuddered and dropped the final half a meter to the ground while the pilots desperately tried to open their cockpits. A tight Force grip held them shut, trapping the pilots in the slowly growing cloud of smoke that not even their advanced filtration systems could completely remove, suffocating them in their seats.

Fox rolled out of the way as Skywalker lunged forward, barely taking the time to swipe his lightsaber through the other gunner’s station. He ended up behind a nearby bush, affording him a close-up view as two troopers’ heads fell off with a spurt of blood. One soldier lost his arm while another collapsed from a slash straight through his side. A volley of shots was easily deflected back to their source, except for the bolt that Fox shot. Trooper after trooper fell to the ground, staining the green grass red from half-cauterized wounds.

He got the odd sense that Skywalker was saving him for last.

The sound of repulsorlifts revving to full power drew Fox’s attention away from the rampaging Jedi. Two airspeeders shot out of the boathouse over the lake, heading towards Theed and freedom. “Crasher! Follow them!”

“On it, Sir.” The second gunship drifted forwards, letting the four scouts on speeder bikes out in front as they all followed the fleeing airspeeders,

“So, Fox.”

Fox pointed his blaster at the speaker only to find himself at the end of Skywalker’s lightsaber. The rest of his platoon was dead on the ground behind the Jedi. Skywalker himself was barely breathing hard, but there was something just visibly _off_ about him. Like energy running just under his skin was threatening to break free and take everything within five klicks with it. Even his lightsaber didn’t look quite like its normal hue. “Skywalker.”

“Tell me one thing. Why are you following his orders? Why try to kill Ahsoka? Why shoot Fives? Why _hold a gun to a little girl’s head?”_

Fox studied him for a moment. “Because my duty, what I’ve been trained for my entire life, is to protect and serve my Emperor. I will _never_ turn my back on that duty, unlike _you._ So if I was ordered to shoot your Padawan because she was a traitor, I shot your Padawan. If I was ordered to kill one of my _brothers_ because he was a traitor, _I._ _Killed. My. Brother._ And you know what? You’re the lucky one here. Because you’ve already turned traitor to our Emperor, and he wants you _alive._ He will stop at _nothing_ to take you alive, and I don’t know why, but you’re _lucky._ So if you want me to _stop_ following orders, I will shoot not only you but also everyone in those speeders myself. Traitors get what traitors deserve, General Skywalker.”

Skywalker clenched a fist, slowly and deliberately. Fox turned his head slightly, trying to relieve the sudden pressure on his throat. It got stronger and stronger as Skywalker’s fist rose and curled until he was scrabbling at an invisible vice around his neck, desperately trying with all his strength to remove it, to be able to breathe again. Fox’s eyes widened under his helmet as Skywalker stalked closer, and his own feet failed to touch the floor. The Jedi’s eyes were no longer blue, outlined in a golden yellow that was somehow the coldest color he’d ever seen.

“Then why don’t you tell Sidious I’ll see him _in hell.”_

Fox was conscious for long enough to feel his neck snap under the pressure, and then the lack of oxygen shut his brain down forever.

* * *

Padmé ducked behind the fuselage of the airspeeder she was configuring for the long drive over the lake as another shot rang through the door. Not for the first time in the past few minutes, she was immensely grateful that Varykino was built to withstand assassins and could take a few hits. As long as they didn’t bring out an E-Web or something, they were as safe as possible. Artoo wheedled next to her; she only caught every other word as his binary was moving too fast for her to follow, but he seemed to be telling her to hurry. “I know, Artoo, I know. Darred, what’s taking so long?”

“In case you forgot, neither of us has ever tried to get a speeder reconfigured while being _shot at!”_ He glared at her over the wheel of the other airspeeder, then seemed to consider who he was talking to. “Actually, wait, I forgot you’re not only married to a Jedi but have quite possibly the longest track record of stunts like that of any Senator from Naboo. You’ve absolutely done this before.” The speeder whined as it started up, lifting slightly off the ground. “There we kriffing go. Ah, girls, don’t repeat that word.”

“Yes, Dad, of course, Dad,” Ryoo flatly told him with a similarly flat look. “Not like Uncle Anakin already says it in front of us.”

“Oh just get in the speeder.”

Padmé helped her parents, who were both carrying a twin, and Threepio into one of the speeders while Darred got Ryoo and Pooja into the other. Artoo boosted himself onto the back of the other speeder, still making worried noises. The sound of blasters firing quieted as she clambered into the passenger’s seat. Five people backed into the room, blasters still pointed outside. Sabé was favoring her right leg, and Typho had the ghost of a burn on his cheek, but everyone else looked fine. “I think we’re clear.” Sola told them.

Typho nodded and swung himself into the driver’s seat of the speeder Padmé was pulling herself into. “Let’s go then.” The other four hurried to free seats, Sabé and Moteé with Sola and her family, while Dormé slipped in next to Padmé.

“Wait, where’s Anakin?”

Sola jerked a thumb in the direction of the sudden increase in blaster sounds. “Take a wild guess.”

“We can’t just _leave_ him--”

“He said he’d catch up once we were on the lake. Padmé, if anyone here can take care of themself, it’s him. We have to _go.”_

Padmé took a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The speeders zoomed out of the boathouse, slaloming around the corner of the island to head for a straight shot towards Theed. Their path followed the island’s edge for the entire coast, keeping them in what little cover there was to be had from the trees. Behind them, the whine of repulsorlifts rose in volume; Padmé twisted in her seat and swore at what she saw. “Typho, there’s four speeders and a gunship on our tails.”

“I see them. The second gunship’s smoking in the courtyard, so at least there probably aren’t reinforcements. Moteé!”

Moteé nodded and pulled the other speeder away from theirs, creating a gap wider than the gunship between them. In the back, Sola and Sabé pushed new tibanna clips into their blasters and twisted to face the enemy. Padmé glanced at Dormé, who was doing similarly, then back at her parents and children. Luke and Leia were whimpering, but Jobal and Ruwee were doing their best to calm them down. “Typho, give me your blaster.”

“Milady, I must insist you do not--”

“I will _not_ sit here and cower while the rest of my family protects us. Give. Me. Your. Blaster.”

Typho took his eyes off the coastline for a moment to meet hers in the rearview mirror. “Fine. Here.”

He slipped it out of his holster and held it out, but didn’t let go when she grabbed it. “Typho.”

“Be. Careful.”

“I will be.”

Typho shook his head, but let go of the blaster. “I think you are constitutionally incapable of being careful. Part of what makes you and Skywalker a good pair.”

Padmé decided to ignore that and hauled herself over to the back of the speeder next to Dormé. Two of the speederbikes were directly behind their airspeeder, while one more was behind the other speeder. The fourth bike was a fading fireball behind them. “Damn, where did Sabé and Sola hit?”

“There’s a fuel line just underneath; that bike tried to jump them.”

“What about the steering veins? Are these the type that will veer if you hit them in the right spot?”

Dormé glanced over at her. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“You take right, I’ll take left?”

Dormé nodded and shifted her aim. Padmé followed suit on the opposite side, aiming for just to the right of one of the rightward speeder’s steering veins. The stormtrooper on the bike swerved out of the way at the same time as the other swerved from Dormé’s shots; they collided in a loud explosion of suddenly ignited fuel. 

Padmé switched her focus to the gunship as she heard the fourth speeder bike abruptly swerve into a tree on the shore, its pilot with a hole through his helmet. “There’s no way we’re going to be able to take that gunship down without some more firepower.”

“Well, good thing the cavalry’s on his way.” Dormé pointed to a blurry, vaguely humanoid shape trailing them on the shore just as it jumped. The shape was untrackable against the night sky but became immediately apparent when a blue lightsaber ignited in the gunship’s hold. Two troopers fell overboard, half of them over each side. Both gunners stations fell abruptly silent as the lightsaber stabbed through the back of their bubbles, and then a loud noise emanated from the aft of the ship. It started listing to the side, belching smoke from its engines. Anakin jumped out the same side he’d jumped in, twisting around in the air and shoving his hands towards the gunship; it veered hard towards port and spun in the air, crashing into the water before slowly sinking to the bottom of the lake.

“Typho!”

“I see him,” Typho told her, turning the speeder into a turn it really should not have pulled and beelining for where Anakin had hit the water. He surfaced just as they reached his location, coughing as he took his rebreather out of his mouth. Padmé reached down and grabbed his arm, helping haul him onto the back of the speeder.

“You okay?” were the first words out of his mouth.

“All things considered. Are you?”

Anakin pulled her into a sopping wet hug. “Just fine now.”


	19. Finality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> having trouble with a chapter? Try scrapping the entire thing and instead putting an extra paragraph of exposition from your new character in the beginning of the one you have written! It works better to introduce a few important parts of his character than one long drawn out conversation that's honestly a little boring anyway!

Sola looked over her parents’ shoulders as Anakin pulled Padmé back to him for a moment. Theed spaceport bustled around them in the pre-dawn light, shops calling for customers and half-asleep pilots stumbling from the cantina to their ships. Darred grabbed her hand with the hand that Pooja didn’t have a death grip on. “You okay?”

“Y--well, no, but. I will be. I hope.”

Her eyes stayed locked on Padmé. Darred followed her gaze and sighed. “They’re leaving without us, aren’t they.”

“We have a chance to live a normal life, even if it’s not on Naboo. They… until Sidious is dead, they’ll be on the run. I know my sister, and she’ll gladly give up almost anything to give those she cares about a fighting chance. If the HoloNews is anything close to right, he’s the same way.”

“We’re not going to live a strictly normal life, though, are we.”

Sola grinned at him, finally tearing her eyes away from Padmé. “You know me so well.”

“Alright, Royal Intelligence Agent Naberrie, what’s the first step?”

Padmé nodded to Anakin and started walking towards them, a myriad of emotions on her face. Sola took a deep breath and mustered up a smile for her. “The first step is to say goodbye to my sister. The second step? We’re finding the one other Jedi I’m absolutely sure survived this mess: Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

* * *

The  _ Rogue Shadow _ dropped out of hyperspace above Naboo. Neeja Halcyon leaned against the bulkhead just outside the cockpit, watching the vibrant blues and greens grow larger in the window. It was a far cry from Praesitlyn, a garden world compared to what might as well have been one vast prairie. He preferred Corellia’s urban sprawl, but he wouldn’t mind living a very long time on the planet before them. 

As much as he complained about Praesitlyn’s vistas, he had been reluctant to leave it. Slayke and his crew had become friends over the past few years, even with that pesky “stealing your ship” incident. Even though he wanted to find Skywalker and repay him for allowing Neeja to redeem himself in the High Council’s eyes, he knew there was little he could do. But staying on Praesitlyn would have been a danger to both himself and Slayke’s crew, so he’d willingly gone with Master Kenobi and Padawan Tano, a favor for a favor. Slayke would take…  _ good care _ of the Separatist Council members.

Besides, he was sure his wife was beside herself at this point. He had to return to Corellia and make sure she and Valin were alright.

“Do you sense anything?” Rex asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

Neeja closed his eyes and reached out through the Force, feeling the space around him as carefully as he could. Naboo was an eddy in energy currents, twisting the fabric of the Force around itself with the power of life on it. “No,” he sighed, “too much life for me to pick him out if he’s here. Those with strong bonds with him might be able to.”

Obi-Wan shook his head from the co-pilot’s chair. “My bond with him has been… interrupted, since the attack on the Temple. Unless he’s hiding himself remarkably well, he’s not here.”

“Mmm…”

They looked over at Ahsoka. She had her eyes squeezed shut, hands resting lightly on the controls as momentum drove them forward. “Ahsoka? Do you sense him?”

“Not exactly. My bond with him’s been pretty messed up since Order 66. Interrupted is a good word. But there’s… something. I think he at least passed through here. Here, Master, try focusing on somewhere quieter than Theed as we get closer.”

Ahsoka tapped at the controls, shifting the ship to sublight power and pulling towards Naboo. As the coastline near Theed solidified, Obi-Wan sat up in his chair. “I see it. It’s like the afterimage of a rockslide. He must have been here.”

“Good news, then,” Neeja said as he slipped into the comms seat, “But for him to have left an impression in the Force, wouldn’t he have had to have been feeling a powerful emotion?”

“For anyone else, yes,” Obi-Wan answered. “For Anakin? Anything is possible. It could have been created by his very presence. Unfortunately, the afterimage is very faded. Without someone adept at psychometry, we’re probably not going to be able to track him and Senator Amidala with it. Perhaps they will have left a message with someone they trust.”

The comms panel beeped with an incoming message from Theed Control. Ahsoka glanced back at Neeja; he nodded and moved to open a channel. “Theed Control, this is the freighter  _ Rogue Shadow _ requesting clearance to land.”

_ “Rogue Shadow, _ state your registration and intent upon landing.”

_ Registration? _ Neeja mouthed. The other two Jedi shrugged.

Jesse, who had walked up and taken Neeja’s spot leaning against the bulkhead, signed the GAR’s standard signal for  _ everything is FUBAR, time to pull a Kenobi-Skywalker and make something ridiculous but effective up. _

Neeja rolled his eyes. “Registration’s out of Corellia, we’re here to pick up a friend.”

“Acknowledged. Docking bay forty-two, sending flight path now.”

* * *

“Alright,” Ahsoka sighed, leaning back in her chair, “we’ve managed to land. What’s the next step?”

Obi-Wan tapped at the dashboard in front of the co-pilot’s chair, looking out the window. “Find a way to meet with Queen Apailana.” 

“Riiiight, and three Jedi and three clone deserters are just going to waltz into the palace of the Emperor’s home planet,” Jesse drawled. “I bet the only place worse would be Coruscant.”

“Not necessarily,” Neeja pointed out, “Queen Apailana reportedly has much the same political views as Senator Amidala. It’s quite likely Apailana already has an idea of what’s happened, especially if Anakin and the senator did pass through.”

“On the other hand, that Galleon looks like one of the ones modified for stealth troop transport.”

They all looked out the viewport where Jesse was pointing at the slightly rounded block that was a  _ Galleon- _ class transport. The armor was somewhat different than a ship of its class usually had, and there were what on close inspection seemed to be disguised cannons hidden on its sides. Neeja sighed. “So there very well could be troopers wandering around, and Apailana wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Likely not,” Rex confirmed. “Those are an ARC secret, it’s a tossup whether even General Skywalker would know about them.”

Neeja nodded. “So the question becomes, what would draw the least attention to us? Master Kenobi has to go, I assume.”

“Right now, I’d stick out too much here,” Ahsoka said, “and if things go bad, you’re going to need a good pilot.”

“Probably not a good idea for us clones to go,” Jesse added. “If there are any plainclothes out there, they’ll recognize us as a problem.”

Obi-Wan stood and gave Neeja the best smile he could muster. “Then it looks like it’s you and me, my friend.”

“Well, hope you have a plan, because that looks like an inspection team.”

* * *

“Whatever would Master Windu think, Master Kenobi?”

“Oh do shut up, Neeja.”

_ “Mind tricking _ the poor inspection team? He would have a fit.”

“We couldn’t afford them poking their noses in the ship, and I would like to not drag any more innocent souls doing their jobs into our troubles.”

Neeja shook his head, grinning. “And yet you didn’t even pay the customs fee.”

“I didn’t--There is  _ no _ customs fee on Naboo! Senator Amidala made sure of that when they were setting up the refugee program!”

“Figures you’d know that.”

“You’re as bad as Anakin.”

“I learned from the best.”

Obi-Wan sighed. The two of them were wandering through Theed’s spaceport in the palace’s general direction, attempting not to seem too conspicuous. They both had cloaks pulled around their robes (Obi-Wan’s somewhat visibly borrowed from the other, considering it was too short) and lightsabers hidden in the folds. “Let’s just get to the palace.”

“What’s your plan for getting in?”

He sighed again. “I am hoping the Force will give me a hint.”

“I see.”

They walked in silence, focused on the crowds around them. Obi-Wan could feel the slight field Neeja was projecting, the thought that whatever was here was somebody else’s problem. As a result, most people avoided them, stepping around them without even looking up from their datapads. The hawkers shouting from the shops ignored them, the pilots drifting from various bars wandered past, hoards of refugees just beginning to settle in treated them as one of their own. Everyone treated them as nothing more than your common Naboo.

All, except for whoever was making the hair on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck stand on end. It wasn’t his danger sense, not exactly, but the feeling that someone was focusing on him so intently they almost managed to see past the somebody else’s problem field.

“Neeja,” he murmured as he stopped walking, “drop the field for a moment.”

Neeja looked at him, but he felt the field drop. The feeling of someone focusing on him intensified, and he slowly turned in the direction it was coming from. Someone was hurriedly weaving through the crowd towards them, but whoever it was wasn’t tripping his danger sense. Next to him, Neeja stiffened slightly, glancing between the figure and Obi-Wan. “I don’t sense a threat.”

“No. I think she will be a help. Put the field back up once she’s close enough to be included.”

“She?”

The figure managed to dodge between a large Ithorian and a grumpy looking near-Human; Sola gave them an apologetic smile as she stepped in front of Obi-Wan. “Well, I didn’t expect this to be so easy.”

“Hello, S--”

“Stella,” she interrupted, with a pointed glance to her left. Obi-Wan and Neeja followed her eyes to an all-too-familiar face in triplicate across the street. Neeja nodded understanding and made sure the field was back around them.

“Ben, then,” Obi-Wan said, “and this is my friend Hal.”

Neeja raised an eyebrow at the names. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“I rather like my name,  _ Hal.” _

“Okay,  _ Ben.  _ Lady Stella, I do not believe we have been introduced.”

Sola looked at him for a moment. “You’re looking for my sister, aren’t you.”

Neeja ran through what he knew of Senator Amidala for a moment and came to the correct conclusion on Sola’s true identity. “Yes, my lady. We were hoping you could point us in her direction.”

“Unfortunately,” she sighed, “she’s already gone. Took her family with her, and I don’t know where. Not even what ship they got on.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Surely one of them would have told you--”

“Ben. Her best friends and I had to shoot some people, and her husband barely saved my daughter from a similar fate. I know the terrible thing is after them; they won’t risk anyone else they love by coming back.”

The three of them stood in the center of the street for long moments. Obi-Wan’s gaze was glued to the sky, searching for any sign of Anakin’s whereabouts. “If I got Ashla access to port records…”

Sola raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think--uh, Ani, of all people, would have them go above-board? Least of all with names you recognize?”

“Our power gives us abilities beyond the usual.”

She shook her head. “Won’t help.”

It was Neeja’s turn to frown. “Stella, we can’t just stop searching.”

“Trust me, Hal, you won’t get far.”

“We  _ need _ him,” Obi-Wan begged, “My Master was very explicit that we cannot get rid of the terrible thing without him, and they are a unit. Please, Stella, if you have anything--”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, truly I am, but I  _ know _ they won’t come back, even if you manage to find them. They have something they need to protect.”

“What?”

“She swore us to secrecy, even from you. You  _ explicitly, _ funnily enough.”

Neeja put a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Come, friend, let’s take Lady Stella back to the ship. Perhaps we can talk more freely there.”

* * *

“Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan glanced over at Ahsoka, standing by the entrance to the cockpit, and motioned Neeja and Sola to go on ahead of him. Ahsoka’s face was drawn, a shadow over it that hadn’t been there when he left. “What is it?”

She sighed, holding up two fingers. “First thing: GAR gossip I have access to has it that a Star Destroyer just jumped out from the Coruscant system, holding our new Emperor. Pretty sure his cover story is coming here to pay respects to his “beloved dead senator,” but he wouldn’t take a fully loaded  _ Resolute _ for that.”

Obi-Wan dragged a hand over his face. “Please tell me that’s the bad news.”

“Oh, it is, the other part’s worse.”

“What could possibly be worse?”

“I checked the Fulcrum frequency while you were gone. There’s a message with his prefix.”

He instantly straightened. “What? Thank the Force!”

“Obi-Wan. You haven’t read it yet.”

She handed him a datapad, hooked into the  _ Shadow’s _ comm channel. It was open to a short message, already decoded from the Fulcrum frequency’s complicated encryption. Obi-Wan skimmed through, eyes catching on the final sentence before he forced himself to read it thoroughly. He found he had to reread it before he processed it.

> Negotiator, Fulcrum Prime, glad you found my little present. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you there. Sidious has pulled out all the stops coming after me. Me, Angel, and a few friends just tore through an entire platoon of some mishmash of the Home Guard and 501st. I know you two and whoever else survived are undoubtedly already planning something grand and secret, but I can’t help. Sidious is after  _ me, _ and he will stop at  _ nothing. _ Even the attack on the Temple was an excuse to control me.
> 
> My presence, my communication with you, puts  everything in danger. Believe me, I want nothing more than to help, march into the Senate Rotunda and stab the lying bastard through the chest, but if I so much as try, he’ll find me and everyone I care about and do worse things than you can even imagine. I can’t let that happen. Angel and I have to keep moving.
> 
> This is my last transmission. Don’t try to find me. 
> 
> I’m sorry.
> 
> \--Fearless

“Oh, Anakin.”

“I tried to log in with his codes; it spat gibberish and white noise at me. He’s deleted himself from the system. I think… I think we have to accept that we’re not finding them any time soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone spot the ~~accidental I swear~~ Hitchhiker's Guide reference ;)


	20. Hiding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got distracted from posting by fire emblem lmao. I also have well over 50 comments in my inbox so like. I may not get to them! But I love them! I appreciate everyone who has ever commented and I see you and wish you happiness.

Anakin and Padmé had enough money on them to secure them, the twins, and the droids passage on a transport on its way to Darkknell. They didn’t stay for long, hopping onto a freighter bound for Tibrin at the last minute. Moving on from there was a little harder, given they couldn’t risk withdrawing any more money from Padmé’s accounts, and Anakin didn’t have any to speak of. In return for Anakin and Artoo fixing both of their dishwashers, a cantina owner gave them a room for a few days.

This brought Padmé to her current task of wandering through the spaceport with Luke strapped to her chest, looking for any transport that didn’t require a large amount of money. Threepio trailed after her, a diaper bag on his back and golden chrome covered in hastily spray-painted black. He and Artoo kept up a colorful commentary on their surroundings, which often had her rolling her eyes. Anakin was nearby, poking through the shops for supplies while mindlessly talking to Leia. She kept catching sight of them and smiling at the adorable pair babbling at each other. Even on the run, this was the happiest she’d seen him in a very long time.

“Ow, _kriffing_ dammit.”

Padmé poked her head into a docking bay to see a Corellian about her age fuming up at the fuselage of his freighter. An avian looking being chittered at him from the ramp. “Yeah, yeah, it’s a mess, I _know._ Damnit, how did this even end up like this?”

Anakin appeared next to her, gaze narrowed at the smoke emanating from the ship. “That’s a Rigger. Looks like the fuel pump’s controls are busted.”

“Bet you could fix it?”

He snorted. “It’s the same class as the _Twilight._ I could fix it in my sleep with one hand, even with the mods those smugglers put on it.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking between the owners of the ship and Anakin. “Smugglers?”

He raised an eyebrow back. “Those engines aren’t quite standard for a Rigger. I bet it makes 100 klicks past what a standard one does in atmo, and the hyperdrive is undoubtedly similar. The guns are unobtrusive, but the extra tibanna lines read juiced up. So, smugglers.”

“So they definitely know how to move people secretly. Follow my lead.” The Human and the avian were still grumbling at each other as Padmé walked up behind them. “Excuse me, do you need some help?”

They both jumped and spun to face them. “What?”

“Well, I just noticed that you seem to be having some trouble with your engine there. My husband here,” and it took all her effort not to grin because she could _say it_ now, “is an excellent mechanic.”

“Oh, is he?”

Anakin took the smuggler’s look at him as his cue to shine. “Your fuel pump’s control chip is busted. You’re probably trying to reroute the controls because you don’t have a spare, and they’re impossible to find here, and it’s causing imbalances in other places, not to mention wasting fuel. You _could_ try going through the regulator for the guns, it’s a similar enough system that it would at least last until you could get to a planet that has a decent selection of Rigger control chips, and would need minimal effort. All it would do is slightly lower the power of your guns for as long as you have it set up, which doesn’t look like it’d be too much of a problem for you.”

The Human raised an eyebrow. “And you can tell all that from just looking at the ship?”

“I used to own a Rigger that had similar problems all the time. Until my brother got it blown up.”

The smugglers glanced at each other, then back at them. “How about this. You help me fix my ship, and I’ll give you a ride off this rock.”

Padmé smiled and extended a hand. “Deal. What can we call you?”

“Booster Terrik. This here is Llollulion and the _Starwayman._ And you?”

“I’m Padma, he’s Ani, our droids are Threepio and Artoo, and these two little ones are Luke and Leia.”

“Welcome aboard.”

* * *

Booster let them stay on his ship for more than one run. He seemed to take a shine to the twins, treating them like a doting uncle might. Padmé and Llollulion got on surprisingly well, and even Booster had to admit that Anakin was the best mechanic he’d met in a good long while. The temporary bliss came to an end when a large contingent of stormtroopers descended on Commenor, forcing them to slip off-planet before Booster was able to. 

They kept running, kept moving, following the same pattern they’d used with Booster, whether it was Anakin offering to fix something or Padmé using her research and debate abilities to gain them a favor exchanged for a ride. But they never stayed in one place. Sidious was always one step behind them, the dual colors of the Home Guard and 501st showing up just as they left. 

The twins had passed the five-month mark by the time they made it to Dantooine, exhausted, and heart-weary. They’d barely escaped Ithor in one piece, and Agamar hadn’t been much better. They stumbled into a hostel sometime barely before the sun rose and slumped into a free room courtesy of a kindly clerk. Threepio and Artoo immediately plugged themselves into the low-feed power outlets and turned off. “I’ll take first watch,” Padmé sighed, setting Leia down on the bed. 

“You’re exhausted, you don’t--”

“Ani, the twins sleep through the night more often than you do. Go to bed.”

Anakin sighed, sitting down next to the sleeping babies. “Fine. Wake me in a few hours if they don’t.”

* * *

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, in this moment:

You try to sleep, you really do, but every time you close your eyes, all you can see is the Temple in flames. Bodies of Jedi you knew, Jedi you fought with and bled for and saved from fates worse than death, scattered all around you. The terrified whisper of a child, repeating over and over and over _Master Skywalker there are too many of them what are we going to do what are we going to do whatarewegoingtodowhatarewegoingtodo_ combining with Shaak Ti’s dying words and the ghost of a long-dead Sith _remember who you did it for, you’ve destroyed everything they held dear in the name of protecting them,_ _broken and lost and so, so alone._

_I tried!_ you scream at the words, the vision, _I_ tried!

_Do or do not, there is no try,_ comes the mocking response in a tone the source of the quote would have never used on you. _You failed. He’ll find them, and he’ll find you. He’ll kill her as punishment and use them just as he will use you. Give up. Stop fighting. Monster. Murderer. You will always be these things, no matter what you_ try. _Monster. Murderer. Monster. Murderer. Monster murderer monster murderermonstermurderermonstermurderer--_

At least it’s impossible to wake up screaming if you never fell asleep.

You give up on it for the moment, sitting up and pulling your boots back on. You’re careful not to disturb your children next to you, but Luke is already awake, reaching for you with both his hands and rudimentary Force abilities. Some part of him registers concern, but mostly he’s just reacting to the emotions around him, an instinctive need to soothe and help. It takes all your effort to withdraw from him, to stop him from seeing what’s running through your mind. He doesn’t need to see that, doesn’t need to know your mistakes and failures.

He’ll be a greater Jedi than you someday.

Padmé looks up with a frown as you approach her from behind. She puts down a book you picked up on the last supply run and wraps you into a hug you don’t feel you deserve, but you can’t quite make yourself pull away. She is the reason you went down that horrible path, but she’s also part of what brought you back.

(And really, it was never her that sent you down that path, but your own selfish need to just have events within your _control_ for once, to _not lose her.)_

“None of this was your fault, Anakin,” she whispers into your shoulder.

You almost laugh. There’s no way you can answer that, so you end up just staring at your children asleep on the bed. Padmé lifts her head from your shoulder after a moment, studying you. “You _really_ believe that this is your fault, don’t you?”

_“All_ of this is my fault,” you whisper. “The Jedi. Your family. Everyone else affected by our presence. The Temple.”

“No. This is the _Sith’s_ plan. This is _Sidious’s_ fault. Not. Yours.”

“Yes, it is! I made a _stupid_ decision, and it almost cost _everyone_ everything.”

Padmé pulls back, hands on her hips, and a determined set to her eyes. “Did you send out the kill order?”

“...No.”

_But I might as well have._

“Did you order troopers to Varykino?”

“No.”

_But my presence caused that._

“Did you order troopers to raze that district on Commenor? Did you order troops to indiscriminately shoot at bystanders on Agamar?”

“No.”

_But Sidious did it to get to me._

“Did you order the attack on the Temple?”

“...Technically, no.”

_I was the one ordered._

She pauses at the technical truth of what happened you’ve finally offered. You can’t keep what happened to yourself, not only because it will destroy you as surely as Sidious wants to, but she deserves to know. Even so, you lock down your Force senses as much as you can manage within the oddly powerful sense of Dantooine, unable to face whatever is brewing in her presence.

“Anakin. What did you do.”

“He said he knew how to save you,” you start, and once you have it all comes spilling out. “And I know that’s not an excuse but it’s _why_ and, Padmé, I can’t--you dying would _destroy_ me and he said he could help but the things he wanted were _horrible_ and I tried to stop it once I came back to my senses but it was too late and I couldn’t save everyone and I can’t _sleep_ because it’s always _there_ and I’m _sorry.”_

And you are sorry, you would take it all back if you could, every stab and choke and glare of cold, golden eyes, just to see them breathing again, to see Shaak Ti interact with the kids you saved and the ones you couldn’t, to see Serra Keto laughing as she spins under a training ‘saber, to see Cin Drallig smiling enigmatically as you guide some of the younger Padawans through lightsaber forms, to see them _alive._

“What. Did. You. Do.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I led the attack on the Temple.”

_All things die, Anakin Skywalker, and this time… it was your fault._


	21. Revelin

Padmé wasn’t entirely sure where she had ended up. Dantooine’s sprawling grassland spread out around her in every direction, interrupted only by the occasional hill. The spot she’d found was well away from Khoonda, shaded by an odd set of obelisks half out of the ground. She regretted that she hadn’t thought to grab the twins when she ran, but she couldn’t even _think,_ and _Anakin--_

She just couldn’t believe him.

“You look like you could use an ear.”

Padmé jumped, turning to look at the person she hadn’t heard approaching. He was Human, a little taller than her, hair curling in a manner so similar to Anakin’s that if the hair wasn’t distinctly copper-colored, she would have thought it was him. A white streak shot through his hair, extending from a scar curling over his left temple. His clothes looked a lot like Jedi robes but were all in black, and the red chest plate and gauntlets spoke mercenary more than anything else.

What struck her most, though, were his piercing grey eyes. They felt like he was staring into her soul, prying secrets out without her even speaking.

“Who are you?”

He shrugged, sitting down next to her. “A friend, I suppose.”

“Did you follow me out here?”

“Nah. My home’s just over that hill,” he jerked a thumb behind them. “I like to go for walks, sometimes. Gets a little monotonous in there. But I’m not sitting here to discuss my eccentricities.”

She glared at him. “I don’t feel like sharing it with someone I just met.”

He held up his hands. “Alright, alright. How about some backstory, then? Let’s see… former Jedi, grew up on Coruscant, ended up moving out here after getting fed up with politicians.”

“If you hadn’t heard, it’s probably not a good idea to go around introducing yourself as a Jedi right now.”

He actually laughed at that. “Oh, trust me, I’m aware. I just happen to be fairly certain that you’re more at ease in the presence of a Jedi than without one.”

Padmé looked at him, really looked at him this time. He did, in fact, have two lightsabers just barely hidden in his robes, and the set of his shoulders spoke of one used to wielding them. He moved with a fluid grace she was used to seeing in Anakin. He was familiar, but not just in the way he moved. There was something about him she couldn’t quite place, in the way a HoloNews star might have. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“No, not really. You might have read something about me; the first time I walked away from the Temple caused quite a stir, but that was a long, long time ago.”

“What’s your name?”

He looked up at the sky, seemingly considering for a moment. “You can call me Rev.”

“Padmé,” she said, somehow confident that she could trust him with her real name.

“Well, Padmé, care to share what’s got you running out into the middle of Grassy Hill, Nowhere?”

She sighed, resting her chin on her knees. “If you’re a Jedi, what’s your take on the Dark Side?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “With respect to what?”

“Can people--come back?”

Rev was silent for long moments, staring off into space. “Well, I did.”

“What?”

“I did… a lot of horrible things. Very, _very_ horrible things, to the point where the _Mandalorians_ called me a war criminal. I had the whole shebang going: lightsabers tinting towards that ugly synthetic red, gold eyes, the works. I didn’t call myself a Sith, and I didn’t really… act like the traditional idea of one, but in hindsight, I definitely was one. I got some sense knocked into me, quite literally I might add, by an old friend. I saw what I had done. And I hated it.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I stopped. I stopped the results of my horrible decisions, and I stopped my friend from continuing the work I refused to condone any longer. And I _kept_ stopping, not just the direct results of my own actions, but the bad things that anyone else had put into motion around me, and I stopped others from following the path I walked down.”

Padmé considered that. She knew what Anakin had done for the Jedi at the end. He’d helped who he could escape and made sure that no one fell for the trap Sidious had planted in the Temple’s halls. He’d done nothing but protect her and their children and everyone around him since he’d shown up in her apartment with the Temple burning behind him. Even when Commenor was burning, and they needed to run, he pulled people away from the flames.

“Was it enough?”

Rev sighed, picking at the grass. “It’s never enough. The Council is right when it muses that “once you go down the dark path, it will forever dominate your destiny,” but not in the way they think. The Sith thoughts and abilities are almost… burned into you. The Force _wants_ to follow them. It’s always there, tempting you with the easy way. With effort and a little encouragement, you can stop it. It’s _always_ possible to stop. But it never really… stops. It’s a lifetime of looking at your actions and figuring out if you’re going astray. I mean, sure, some of the abilities are possible to use without thinking like a Sith, hell, Jay is never surprised when I, I quote, “lightning the shavit out of something,” but that’s _impossible_ without help. You need someone to help you when you’re second-guessing your choices, encouraging you when you’re close to giving up and saying to hell with it, let’s just blast the entire galaxy with some Force Lightning.”

Rev throwing his hands up and dramatically reenacting blasting a nearby obelisk with lightning from his fingertips managed to get a tiny smile out of Padmé. “Jay?”

He nodded, smiling wistfully at the clouds. “Yeah. Best friend, partner, whatever, doesn’t matter. She almost followed me down into the Dark Side, but we got… separated, let’s call it. I went down, she wavered, but never went as far as me. We ran into each other again after everything happened and decided to help each other out. She tells me off when something I say sounds a little too Sithy, I remind her when she’s doing the same. It’s hard, especially when we’re both pissed off at something, but it helps. Having Carth around for when that happens is a good backup, too. I guess that’s part of love, helping each other out.”

Padmé sighed, his last sentence an unpleasant reminder of why she was out here. Rev stopped looking at the clouds and turned back to her. “Does he regret it?”

“What?”

“Who you asked that question because of. Does he regret his actions?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. She knew Anakin, _knew_ him, and from the way he’d been acting, there was no way he didn’t regret leading the attack on the Temple.

“Has he been trying to atone?”

“I think so, even if he doesn’t believe it’s been working.”

“Well, there you go. He’s already on his way back. You are under _absolutely no obligation_ to help him if you don’t want to, that is _your_ choice alone, but I think he’d appreciate some encouragement.”

“But how do you _live_ with that? How do you live with knowing that someone you love has done horrible things? Killed people _for you?”_

Rev muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “I wish Carth were the one having this discussion with you, but noooo that’s not how the Force works” before he sighed and wrapped his arms around his knees. “My other partner, Carth, I met him before I found Jay again. Wait, okay, this requires a bit more backstory. When I said I got some sense literally knocked into me, I mean I was on the bridge of a Star Destroyer when it exploded. I lost my memory pretty much completely. I had _no idea_ what I’d done, and neither did Carth. After we’d known each other for a few months, my old friend and former partner managed to heal most of my brain damage and give me my memory back. Of course, he did that at the same time as he told everyone I knew what exactly I’d done as a Sith. My ships had glassed Carth’s home planet, killing his family. I woke up hating myself. You know what Carth did?”

“Forgave you?”

“He tried to shoot me in my sleep.”

Padmé stared at him, unable to process the nonchalant way Rev had said that. _“What?”_

“I was unconscious in the med bay of a cruiser because my head was taking its sweet time putting itself back together, so I only found out about it later, but he walked in and held a gun to my head. He couldn’t do it. Not because I was asleep, but because he knew me. The _real_ me, not the one corrupted by Sith teachings. He knew that I would wake up and hate myself for it. He knew that I’d been doing good things and that even when I didn’t realize it myself, I was trying to make up for everything I’d done. I couldn’t bring his planet back, but I could prevent others from getting glassed and other families from being destroyed.

“So no, he didn’t forgive me, not right away at any rate, and he’s never forgotten about it. But he’s never used it against me either. He sees it as part of what’s shaped me into the person I am now. A person who knows what it’s like to end up in the depths, and just wants to help others get out.

“You don’t have to forgive him, Padmé, and I encourage you to _not_ forget about it. Just because he’s made it any of the way back doesn’t mean he won’t fall into it again. All I want is for you to consider what you want and whether you’re willing to help him at all. You can consider your kids, consider him, but you _have_ to consider yourself first.”

Padmé narrowed her eyes, parsing through that last sentence. “...How did you know I have kids?”

Rev froze. “You have Force bonds streaming off you like a neutron star’s magnetic field?”

“I don’t believe you. Not entirely, at any rate.” She looked at him again, looking for something she might have missed, and that’s when she saw it.

He didn’t have a shadow.

“You’re not really here, are you.”

Rev sighed. “No. I’m a ghost, for lack of a better term. I’m Skywalker’s predecessor to all things ‘I’m way too kriffing powerful and everyone’s scared of me so I might as well give them a reason to be scared’-y.”

“So then why are you _here,_ talking to _me?_ Go talk to him! Help him or something!”

“Because, Lady Amidala, _he_ isn’t the one that needs my help right now. He knows what he needs, and he’ll find me when he’s ready. _You_ are the one that decided to run out into the middle of nowhere to think. I’ll leave you to it, but there’s one more thing: Sidious is already on his way. If you leave before he gets here, the trail he’s been following will be confused enough he won’t be able to follow it directly.”

“How?”

He stood, flashing her a cocky grin. Rev snapped his fingers, and his face was suddenly covered by a helmet she’d seen in old holos while helping Jocasta research the person standing before her. “Because, even as a ghost, I am _really good_ at messing with psychometry.”

And with that, Revan disappeared into thin air, leaving Padmé with a warning and a choice to make.

But really, she’d made that choice three years ago. 

* * *

Anakin was in the middle of trying to figure out if it was possible to strap both the twins to his torso when a familiar presence brushed against the edge of his awareness. He froze for a moment before gently putting Leia down on a blanket on the floor. She immediately rolled over, making noises that sounded a lot like mama. Luke perked up next to her and started babbling too. Threepio made a concerned noise, but a beep from Artoo had him quieting and turning to watch the children.

Anakin found he couldn’t really manage to move to open the door, which was just as well as Padmé let herself in. She gently closed the door behind her but didn’t move closer. “Anakin, I--”

“You don’t have to say anything, let me just p--”

“Oh, would you just let me finish!”

“Sorry.”

Padmé took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Anakin fidgeted in place, feeling like that nineteen-year-old who had just walked into her apartment for the first time, knowing that hope was foolish.

“Do you regret it? What you did?”

“Completely.”

“Okay. I just… needed to hear that from you. Because, Anakin, this isn’t the first time you’ve lost control because someone you love was threatened. And I need--I need to know that you won’t do _anything_ like that again. I need to know that you’re trying your hardest to make up for it. Forcedamnit, Anakin, I _love_ you, and I meant it when I said I always would, but this is _downright terrifying._ And it’s not something easily forgiven. I’m willing to work with you, to move past this, to point out when you start losing control. But you have to meet me halfway. You have to promise you’ll keep watch for when you start slipping into that mindset of revenge and the thought that you are the only one you can trust to control the universe because _you can’t._ You can’t control death. _All_ things die, Anakin. Even the stars will burn out. Feel free to try and save me, save Luke and Leia, save Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, and everyone else, but _don’t do it at the cost of everything._ Okay? Please?”

Anakin nodded, blinking back tears. “Okay.”

Padmé relaxed slightly. “Thank you.”

He practically fell forward in his haste to get over to her, folding her into a hug. Padmé wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in her hair. “I love you,” he mumbled, tear tracks running down his cheeks.

“I love you too. And if you were about to start talking about packing, I have it on good authority that Sidious is already on his way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few fun facts: in my original story notes, Padmé doesn't find out Anakin's Vader until the twins are 16-ish. Anakin said fuck that, I tell my wife everything, and the end of last chapter happened.  
> As such, this chapter wasn't even a passing thought when I was first planning. When I started writing Padmé's reaction, I was also writing [(Even When They're Covered Up) These Questions in your Gut Won't Fade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037110/chapters/61509307). This chapter and the linked chapter of that fic ended up being written essentially in tandem and going off in directions neither story originally went. Padmé's one of the characters that always wants to believe the best in people, believe that there is still good in even the likes of the darkest of Sith Lords, so it makes complete sense to me that she's the one to start poking Jocasta in the right direction. Given what happens to her, that action has a huge impact on the rebellion/new Jedi order. But as much as Padmé wants to believe in the best, that doesn't mean she doesn't have her own moments of doubt and fear. Hence, a much-needed conversation and a little support from my favorite force ghost.  
> Revelin/Revan wasn't supposed to be anywhere _near_ this fic, he wasn't even supposed to show up until Anakin wanders into the rakata ruins Padmé's just over the hill from here, which is two decades later, but he decided to ghost his way in and become a one-scene wonder.


	22. A Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna post the last three chapters of this together, so! make sure you don't miss one!

Neeja had gone with Sola to pick up her family, returning with the rest of the Naberries and the unaccounted for members of Padmé’s guard. Obi-Wan was somewhat surprised that the handmaidens and captain of her guard hadn’t gone with her, but Typho shook his head at the unasked question. “Too conspicuous. Just them looks like a refugee family, one of unfortunately too many. She’s handy enough with a blaster, and you know better than I that Skywalker counts for an entire army.”

The  _ Rogue Shadow _ was cramped, not designed to suddenly triple its crew compliment overnight, but they managed to fit everyone in. Ryoo and Pooja were forced to share a bed, which was just as well as Pooja refused to be even a foot away from any of her family members for longer than thirty seconds. When Ahsoka relayed the story she’d heard from Sola to Rex, he’d vowed to add the rest of the Naberries to his circle of protection.

Everyone else had been wary of the three renegade clones when they first arrived, even when provided an explanation, but strangely enough, Pooja consented to Kix making her a snack. The adults eventually decided it was because he wasn’t wearing his helmet, and thus she didn’t realize that he was a soldier like the one that had threatened her.

They made their way to Alderaan, landing without a hitch due to the code Senator Organa had given Obi-Wan. The  _ Shadow _ landed in the dead of night in the palace’s private hangar, blending in with the cloudy sky. Their welcome party of one waited just inside as Ahsoka and Obi-Wan trooped down the ramp. “Ahsoka!” Bail called, a grin spreading over his face.

“Senator Organa,” she smiled back, bowing slightly, and then noticed the bundle he was holding. “Is that your child?”

Bail’s smile went softer as he glanced down at the baby in his arms. “Yes. Her name is Winter, adopted from a dear friend who can no longer care for her. She started fussing, so I figured a walk would do her good.” 

Ahsoka walked over and looked over Bail’s shoulder at the sleeping baby. Her tiny hands were twisted into her father’s nightshirt, wisps of white hair coating pale skin. “She’s adorable.”

“And I hope she’ll stay asleep,” Bail laughed. “Obi-Wan, I see you found her but did you…”

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. “No. Ahsoka and I have a collection of people on the ship, people that have been forced to run just as we have, but… not them. I don’t believe we’ll find them until they choose to be found.”

Bail sighed, glancing back at the palace. “You should come in. Yoda’s waiting for you. And invite the rest of your entourage; there are others here that I think we should all have a discussion with.”

* * *

Bail took a sleeping Winter back to her crib, arranging nearby rooms for the Naberries. Jobal and Ruwee agreed to take Ryoo and Pooja to bed, but Pooja refused to go without one of her parents. Darred volunteered, pecking Sola on the lips and telling her to fill him in in the morning. Sola, the remnants of Padmé’s guard, the deserters, and the Jedi followed Bail through the silent palace to one of the large sitting rooms just off the throne room. Quiet conversation filtered through the half-open door, Basic in a myriad of different accents. 

Yoda’s distinctive cadence greeted them as Bail opened the door for them. “Master Kenobi, partially successful, were you?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, glancing over the assembled. Yoda was settled on a cushioned chair, a cup of tea in his hands and gimmer stick leaning next to him. Breha was on her own seat, with Mon Mothma on one side as Bail claimed her other. Meena Tills, Riyo Chuchi, and Garm bel Iblis were arrayed on the other couches, surprised looks on their faces at the new arrivals. “Partially, Master?”

“Padawan Tano, you have, as well as Master Halcyon and some from Naboo. Your captain…”

“Rex, Jesse, and Kix have information we need,” Ahsoka reassured him, “They’re not under Sidious’s control.”

“Hm. Start with that, w--”

Yoda was interrupted by a loud, excited beeping that probably translated to  _ [Kenobi!] _ A red astromech with a recently repaired head came barreling through the room, narrowly avoiding bumping into Sabé and Moteé as they moved to sit.

“Arfour?” Obi-Wan managed. 

His astromech continued beeping at him, excitedly telling him her story of slipping free from the  _ Vigilance _ once it entered Coruscant airspace and encountering Yoda in the Temple. Ahsoka rolled her eyes at Obi-Wan’s bewildered expression, but he did crouch down to talk to her. She turned her attention to Rex, prompting him to begin his own sorry tale.

The reactions were predictable. Garm looked like he wanted to punch something. Riyo’s hands trembled with the effort of not slamming a hand down on the table and stalking out to give the Emperor a piece of her mind. Meena and Mon were more reserved but visibly horrified. Bail and Breha were already forming plans. Yoda just looked sorrowful, and maybe slightly guilty.

“A terrible price, our friends have paid. Free them, you can?”

The three clones looked at each other. “Not by ourselves, no. And then there’s the problem of flash training and other things. The chips are just a backup, Sir. We’re free without them because our loyalty to our Generals and the true Republic outweighs our loyalty to the Emperor. Not all of the GAR is like us.”

“Fox,” Ahsoka grumbled. 

Rex nodded. “Commander Fox is a perfect example of that.”

“So what I’m hearing is we can’t count on the GAR to be our army.”

Everyone in the room looked at Garm. “You can’t be serious,” Bail told him. “There’s no way we can just--march on Coruscant! And you were in the Rotunda, you’ve  _ seen _ the people! Any sort of attack now would be faced with a mob of  _ civilians _ against it!”

“And what if we  _ don’t _ attack now? What if we don’t nip this Empire in the bud before it begins to bloom? We’ll all be devoured like a bug landing on a reeksa root!”

“We don’t have the support, Garm! How many will die because we tried and were coldly executed before we could even begin?”

Garm narrowed his eyes at the other. “So you’re suggesting we lie down and die, just like you always do.”

“Says the person who got his planet to declare neutrality while the rest of the Republic was  _ dragged into a war.” _

_ “Enough!” _ Mon shouted, standing up and putting herself between their lines of sight. “What would Padmé think of you two? She’d skin you both alive. We’re not here to plan an attack, not immediately. We don’t have the troops, supplies, funds, or support to go up against the entire GAR. As much as I hate it, we need to  _ wait.” _

“Right, Senator Mothma is. The biggest puzzle piece of an attack, we are missing.”

“What puzzle piece?” Riyo asked. 

Obi-Wan sighed from where he’d moved to stand behind Ahsoka, Arfour at his heels. “Anakin.”

Everyone but the Jedi gave him quizzical looks. Neeja sighed, rubbing a hand across his face and muttering, “not this again.” Ahsoka crossed her arms and looked at an empty spot on the wall.

“Sorry, Sir, but why is General Skywalker necessary for an attack? Surely between you and Generals Yoda, Halcyon, and Tano, we have enough military prowess for any theoretical attack.”

“It’s not military prowess-”

“Oh, don’t give them the Chosen One bullshit again.”

Obi-Wan turned to Neeja. “Master Halcyon, were you on Coruscant on the thirtieth of the first month of this year? Or even in the system?” At Neeja’s shake of the head, he continued: “On that day, Anakin demonstrated a mastery of Force skills he has never been able to achieve without help before. His presence seemed to merge with the Temple itself, bringing with it a power not seen in four thousand years. He  _ is _ the Chosen One. And that was not the first time I’ve seen that. Surely you’ve heard the rumors about Mortis.”

“Okay, so he did something freaky.”

“Neeja,” Yoda said, “Before attacked, Coruscant was, Master Nu to me related her latest research into the Chosen One prophecy. To young Skywalker as our Chosen One, all evidence points.”

Neeja looked between the two surviving Councilmembers. “You really believe he is, huh.”

“Look, what he is or isn’t doesn’t matter,” Ahsoka interrupted before they entirely lost the point. “What matters is does he have the ability to get rid of Sidious. We may think he does, but  _ he _ doesn’t. And that’s the problem.”

“And the four of you could not deal with him?” Typho pointed out, “Surely, you are strong enough together.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not without a great loss of life, ours and others. Anakin and I caught one glimpse of Sidious’s power before everything went down, and I heard Master Nu caught another. He is certainly powerful enough to take half of Coruscant with him. Furthermore, Anakin is the only living person who has actually killed a Sith at the height of his power. Even if we discount any Jedi prophecies, we need his experience and skill.”

“Didn’t you--?”

“I may have defeated him, but Maul was around for a long time, even minus his legs.”

“And those three were the ones that technically killed him,” Ahsoka said, pointing to the clones. “Master Kenobi’s right, we need Anakin to kill Sidious.”

“So we find him,” Meena stated, “The Younglings said he was heading to a friend of his, which given the guest list I’m guessing was Senator Amidala. Lady Sabé, surely you know where she is.”

Sabé shook her head. “You won’t be able to find them. Anakin knows how to hide when he wants to, and Padmé knows how to make them both unrecognizable. They won’t be found unless they want to be found.”

“Surely--”

“They won’t be found unless they want to be found.”

Silence descended on the gathering at the finality in Sabé’s statement. Garm huffed, conceding his point. “Alright. I accept that we don’t have the firepower for assassination or a frontal assault right now. So how do we get it?”

It was Riyo that spoke. “We do what we’ve always done: politics. Be good little senators, but keep eyes on everything. We need a list of every sapient rights violation he puts into play, every constitutional amendment he shoves through the Senate to further consolidate his power. Keep track of state-sanctioned terrorism and ignored bigotry. Talk to people, debate them, investigate quietly, use the facts against him. Anything possible to turn public opinion against him.”

“That could take  _ years.” _

“It will,” Mon said, “Decades, even. But if we do this wrong, he will crush us beneath his heel. We can’t let ourselves be destroyed before we even have the ability to act.” 

Garm sighed. “Fine. We’re spies, then. As long as we agree to revisit in two years time whether we can carry out any sort of offensive, I’ll agree to that.”

“If we are to revisit an offensive, we will also need intelligence. Movements of Imperial forces, weak points in defenses, people that may be sympathetic to our cause.”

Ahsoka leaned back in her chair with a smile. “I think I can help with that. We’ve accidentally collected a few people that I’m sure have no love for Sidious, given Obi-Wan saved them from his assassin. I’ve also got access to… let’s call it a lot of grassroots intelligence. Rexter, Jesse, Kix, mind helping out?”

“Ready and willing, Sir.”

“Sola? We could use someone with actual intelligence training.”

Sola smiled. “I was going to volunteer.”

“Well,” Bail said, leaning forward, “I believe this is a solid plan. We’ll work on the politics, and the Jedi and soldiers can work on the spycraft. We’ll have to keep mostly separate, minimal contact.”

Riyo nodded. “A secret rebellion. I like it.”

* * *

They discussed logistics for a few minutes longer before Riyo declared she had to be getting back to Pandora before anyone became suspicious about her absence. The others made similar pronouncements, Sola asking for the Naberries to come along to Chandrilla with Mon, while the former handmaidens agreed to stay on Alderaan. Neeja followed Garm out the door, whispering about recruiting from CorSec and asking after a friend of his. Ahsoka stood to follow, but Yoda stopped her with a tap of his stick. “Before leave, you do, one more matter we have. An apprentice, Sidious has.”

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka looked at each other. “Master… I’m not so sure he does any longer.”

Yoda made a quizzical noise. “An explanation, you would provide?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “The people I saved were part of the Separatist Council. The assassin was a former Jedi, Barriss Offee. When I tried to talk her down and asked for any information she had on the Sith, she called Vader a traitor.”

“Lying, she could have been.”

“No. I did not get the sense that she was lying. At the very least, she believed her words. Furthermore, during interrogation, Viceroy Gunray stated that Vader was the original assassin sent after the Separatist Council and was “waylaid.” I thought he was sent after Anakin once Sidious realized he was still alive, but given later evidence, I doubt that is the case. The question becomes, who managed to take Dooku’s place in less than a week, and promptly gave it up in even less time?”

Yoda looked down at his gimmer stick, suddenly seeming to be all of his almost 900 years. “Erased the security records, Skywalker did, to the survivors protect. Know who Vader is, I do not. However, forced open, the Temple was not.”

Ahsoka squinted at him. “You’re saying he must have been a Jedi?”

“Yes.”

The three stood in silence, taking in that fact. Yet another Sith, taken from the ranks of the Order. What would it take to do that? What had they done wrong that so many had fallen?

“If truly betrayed Sidious, he has,” Yoda started again, staring out to the mountains, “a powerful ally he would be, but just as much reason to hide as Knight Skywalker. An eye, we should keep.”

“Of course, Master.”

Yoda nodded. “Go, we should. Safe, it is not, to gather.”

“You’re not staying here?”

“Obvious here, I am. However,” as he said that, a twinkle of mischief lit up in his eyes, “amphibious, I am. Dac, a good option is, and Younglings there are that may need my help.”

Yoda waddled out to follow Meena, leaving Ahsoka and Obi-Wan to boggle at his retreating back. “He’s  _ what?” _

“That makes an odd amount of sense.”

They gaped at his back for a moment more before Ahsoka turned and gathered Obi-Wan in a hug. He froze for a moment but slipped his arms around her back. “I suppose this is goodbye for now,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” she said, forcing herself to pull back. “But I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon. May the Force be with you, Master.”

“And with you, Knight Tano.”

She blinked up at him. “What?”

“You did earn the rank, even if you did not want it. It’s just a pity Anakin isn’t here to acknowledge it.”

Ahsoka felt her cheeks turn a darker orange as she looked down. “Thank you, Master. And, if you find him before I do, give him a hug for me?”

Obi-Wan nodded, a sad smile on his face. “I will.”

He watched her walk back towards the  _ Shadow, _ Rex, Jesse, and Kix on her heels. They’d be leaving immediately, beginning the long process of transforming the Fulcrum network into a full-blown rebel intelligence agency.

And he? Even though the man who might as well have been his brother did not want to be found, he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He had work to do. Work to find the greatest weapon they had against Sidious, yes, but more to find the last of his surviving family. 

Work to bring hope back to the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with the end of the senators' convo, but *shrug* I just need to stop messing with it.
> 
> Also is Yoda amphibious? No idea, but I needed someone to go to Dac. He fit. quod erat demonstradum


	23. Of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna post the last thre chapters of this so make sure you don't miss one!

True to Revan’s words, as soon as the Skywalkers left Dantooine, Sidious seemed to lose their trail. The troops floundered, not managing to figure out they had left for Ord Trasi until they’d already been through Muunilinst and Yaga Minor. They knew they couldn’t lose the head start, though, hopping back through the Inner Rim to Bandomeer and then Taris. They stopped at Contruum, Kashyyyk, and a few other planets, before pausing on Ruusan to take a breath.

“We can’t keep running like this.”

Anakin sighed, settling down on the bed next to Padmé. “I know. The twins need some sort of stability. Friends. And this is, frankly, exhausting.”

“We could go back to the Core. Alderaan would welcome us with open arms, and we wouldn’t stand out…”

“Alderaan already has a target on its back because of Bail’s vocal aggression against Palpatine just before everything went down. I’m not going to put them in greater danger with my presence. But, if you want to go, take the twins--”

_ “Absolutely not.” _

“Padmé, it’s a reasonable suggestion. Sidious is after  _ me. _ If you and them leaving would help them…”

“No. If I was planning on leaving you out here by yourself, I would have done it on Dantooine.”

He smiled at her, gripping her hand. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know. Now come on, there must be something we can figure out.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the twins as they played. Leia was happily babbling on the floor, throwing blocks at Artoo’s treads. The astromech beeped increasingly dramatic oh nos at her every time he was hit, which only made her laugh and throw another. Luke had rolled himself over to Threepio’s feet and propped himself against them, prompting the protocol droid to start fussing over him. He simply giggled and patted the droid’s leg.

“Hey, Artoo, I’ve got an idea. Can you give… me… a map. That’s not me doing that.”

A green block that had been resting against Artoo’s side bounced across the floor, seemingly under its own power. Both parents followed its trajectory as it skidded and jumped away from the astromech, eyes frozen wide. The block bounced one more time and stopped just in front of Luke’s legs. He smiled and patted the block twice before picking it up, throwing it at Artoo, and attempting to repeat the exercise.

Leia watched him for a moment before picking up a red block, throwing it, and thrusting a hand out to try and do the same thing her brother was doing. Instead, she accidentally pushed it, forcing Anakin to catch the block mid-air before it hit Luke. Both twins looked at the block for a moment before turning to look at him and clapping while giggling.

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah. Another reason we’re not leaving you: there’s no way I can teach them to control that.”

“Okay, so, added to the parameters: place where  _ that _ isn’t going to be a problem.” Anakin waved at the block, setting it down near Leia and turned back to Artoo. “Map of places we’ve been?” Artoo twirtled, projecting a map of the galaxy with a line overlaid over their course. “Highlight anywhere in the galaxy you have records from the Temple of a permanent Vergence.”

Padmé glanced over at him. “A what?”

“A large concentration of Force energy. I’m testing a theory.”

Several places on the map started blinking. Coruscant, Taris, and Ruusan lined up with their course, but none of the other ones. Anakin frowned at it for a moment. “Add Dantooine and Kashyyyk to that list.”

[Both are well explored to the Jedi, why would they not be on the list?] Artoo asked, but the two planets started blinking.

“I don’t know, buddy. Something about them just felt… different than the others. Like… huh. Okay, well, at least I’m right. Padmé, see the blinking planets on our route? They’re all places it took Sidious at least three weeks to track us on. They’re also all places he can afford to send troops, as they’re either disputed planets or were under attack during or just before the purge. The only exception to both of those is Naboo, which I’m willing to bet is because he had a pretty good idea of where we’d go. The amount of time necessary to track us has increased each time we’ve stopped somewhere with a Vergence, but  _ especially _ Dantooine and Kashyyyk. It took a month and a half to pick up our trail once we left Dantooine; it’s been three months, and the stormtroopers still haven’t made it off Kashyyyk. We’re on Ruusan right now, which has one of the strongest Vergences ever recorded by the Order.

“One thing the Order figured out early on was that putting two Vergences in close proximity makes it really hard to distinguish them. That gets…  _ really _ weird when one of them is a person who is suddenly conscious of his ability to control a nearby Vergence. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka thought I’d been kidnaped for a solid twenty-four hours once.”

“After Mortis?”

Anakin tilted his head. “How do you know about Mortis?”

“Oh, it came up while I was helping Jocasta with her research one day.”

“Huh. Anyway, here’s the theory: if we pass through a Vergence, Sidious has to resort to more standard forms of tracking than psychometry and whatever Sith abilities he has. But there’s something  _ really weird _ about Dantooine and Kashyyyk. Whatever is different about those Vergences makes it practically impossible to find us. I think, if we can find another place like those to live on, he won’t find us for years, possibly even decades.”

“So the issue comes down to finding another one of those, if it even exists.”

“Well… not exactly. I happen to know where one is.”

Padmé gave him a look. “Which one of us is going to hate its location more?

“Probably me. It’s out of the way, doesn’t have a former Republic presence, and there’s at least two people that probably wouldn’t mind some Force-sensitive help around the farm.”

_ “Where, _ Anakin.”

Anakin took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for even suggesting the possibility. “Tatooine.”

* * *

They managed to scrounge up enough credits to buy themselves an old freighter. A very,  _ very _ old YT-700 that at first glance didn’t look like it could even fly. “This is a piece of junk,” Padmé muttered.

Anakin just grinned. “A piece of junk that I managed to get the hyperdrive down to class two and souped-up the engines. She’ll hold together longer than we need her.”

“Are we actually going to be able to sell it once we get to Tatooine?”

“For more than we bought her for, I bet. Her only job is to get us there and leave, but she’s a perfect smuggler’s ship.”

Padmé considered the ship again. Anakin was an expert mechanic, so if he said it was spaceworthy, it was spaceworthy. She just had one more question. “Did you give it a name?”

He patted the hull affectionately.  _ “New Hope.” _

* * *

“Beru, do you know where I put the size six hydrospanner?”

“You were working on the central GX-8 yesterday, Owen, did you check there?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I was using it on the landspeeder later, but it’s not in the garage.”

Beru stepped into the central courtyard and glanced over the water vaporator in the middle. Almost immediately, she found the missing hydrospanner sitting above the function motors. “Owen, it’s right here.”

“Oh, dammit, really? Did any sand get in it?”

She rolled picked it up, inspecting it quickly to make sure no sand had damaged it during the night. “It’s fine.”

“Can you bring it here?”

“Hello?”

Beru dropped the hydrospanner and whipped her head up to stare at the lip of the courtyard.

“Anakin?”


	24. Ignite the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the last three chapters of this all at once, so make sure you've read the last two before this!
> 
> The last few sentences are verbatim from the RotS novelization, and the general structure of this chapter is inspired by it as well.
> 
> EDIT like an hour later I can't BELIEVE I forgot the required listening: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eb2zuegwcwk>

This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker, for now:

You lean against the pourstone dome of the entrance to the Lars family homestead, gazing over the compound to Tatooine’s two setting suns. You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight, despite your wife’s best attempts. You left her asleep in your bed, the twins cuddled up against her.

It’s been one year since fire consumed the Jedi Temple. It’s been two months since the Larses welcomed your family into their home, grateful for the extra help, even if it meant four more mouths to feed. You couldn’t ask for much more than you have. Your wife is alive and happy, your children give you big gummy smiles every time they manage to move a block on their own, and you can even just barely tell that your old teacher and student are alive over the Force bonds you blocked with fire.

It’s almost blissful.

But the dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins.

Your mother’s grave sits silently to your right, a dark reminder of your mistakes and failures. If you look at it too long, the terrified face of a child combines with the sand mask of another. The furnace you use for a heart burns you from within with memories of what you’ve done, what you cannot take back. The scars on your arms still hold the memories of lightsabers.

_ Monster. Murderer, _ the dead-star dragon whispers,  _ He will find you. He will find them. This cannot last forever. _

The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins.

_ All things die, Anakin Skywalker. Even stars… burn out. _

The long night has begun.

Solem crowds line the streets of Theed, waiting for their chance to pay respects in the mausoleum of their beloved Hero-Queen, now one year dead. 

A similar scene plays out on Coruscant in the newly renamed Imperial Palace, with the Emperor himself at the head of the procession.

On the bridge of a Star Destroyer, a sector governor named Tarkin surveys the growing skeleton the size of a moon before him.

But even in the dark, there are those who dream of hope.

The Queen of Naboo holds a private memorial for the beloved handmaiden she knows the Emperor had killed to protect his lies before she delves into plans to protect what she knows her Senator would have wanted.

A young Jedi sits in the Alderaanian Senator’s home office, whispering plans of rebellion as her brothers reach out in her name.

A Jedi kneels down on the dirty streets of Corellia’s spaceport to catch his son in his arms before he meets with his senator.

A woman dusts her hands off in her Chandrillan home, finished with the last of the secret changes to their house her husband designed.

And on Tatooine, a mother carries her two children to their father and sits by him as the last of the twin suns rays disappear beyond the horizon.

_ The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins--but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. _

_ Love is more than a candle. _

_ Love can ignite the stars. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand done!  
> I have uhhh, 18 credits, 2.5 jobs, and a black belt test to prepare for so I wouldn't expect much out of me for the next month. BuT, there will probably be things working behind the scenes. I have a few one-shot ideas I might write to take a break from So Much Physics Seriously I Know I'm An Engineer But This Is A Lot.  
> See you when the next thing is up!


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